


Pinfall

by crowleyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Anal Sex, Best Friends, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bullying, Fluff and Angst, Former Military Dean Winchester, From Sex to Love, Hate to Love, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Past Relationship(s), Porn With Plot, Post-High School, Public Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Rough Sex, Single Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Slow Build, Time Skips, Truck Driver Dean Winchester, Underage Drinking, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-05-20 16:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 62,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19380445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowleyo/pseuds/crowleyo
Summary: Cas runs the family diner with his adopted son, Jack. His old, high school flame rolls into town and he thinks he can just step back into Castiel's life. Well... He's kind of right.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'beyond the infinite' - brothertiger - out of touch

_Noun. **pinfall** (plural pinfalls) (wrestling) A victorious maneuver in which both of an opponent's shoulders are held against the mat for a prescribed period of time._

###### 

The days are like seasons. The seasons serve to emphasize the years. Castiel lets the years pass like days as he slowly creeps towards his forties. It is another hot late-summer morning, and Cas falls back into his routine.

Arriving at the diner, he is greeted by a well groomed and well mannered Jack. Cas smiles in return to his shining son who brings him a mug of coffee, “Good morning, Cas!”

“Hello, Jack,” Cas says, sipping his coffee with a soft hum, “You’re up early.”

“Just a little!” Jack defends, turning to prep the rest of barback. 

Cas chuckles, “No, it’s fine.”

Jack pauses, then turns to him, ringing the rag he was wiping down with in his hands. Cas sighs, setting down the mug, asking, “What is it?”

“Well, um… I was wondering if I could take off early tonight?” Jack asks hopefully. Cas smiles, he knew there was something. Jack continues before Cas can get a word in edgewise, “I mean, I can stay if you need me to! There is just this party, those new friends asked me to go! I said I was working and they said that was lame, but it was just yesterday so I couldn’t find a cover and so I thought I’d just ask if-”

“Jack,” Cas interrupts with a raised hand. He looks up with a small smile, “Of course you can take off early. Just don’t mention it to Claire, she’ll complain to me all night.”

Jack’s eyes go to the side as he blushes. Cas grimaces, “What?”

“Well,” Jack begins, starting to clean the counter. The next part comes out at lightning speed, “Claire also told me to ask you if she could get off early too. For the party.”

Cas groans loudly. Claire… Was not as good a worker as Jack. Despite this, he’d rather have her than nobody on tonight. Still, he knows he’ll get an earful and a half if he lets Jack go early and not Claire. Still, they are just teenagers and she should have fun like Jack.

He nods with a humble defeat, “Alright, I can close up by myself.”

Jack bounces on the balls of his heels, giggling, “Awh, okay thank you, thank you! I’ll do all the dishes before I go!”

Cas chuckles at the thought, “Don’t worry, you do enough, Jack. Just, um, please don’t bring anybody over… And be home at a decent time? And text me when you do get home?”

Jack nods excitedly. Cas sighs, knowing that Jack will do all of that and would have anyway without him saying so. After Jack turned sixteen, Cas had surprised him by renovating the loft above the diner. He had decided to renovate rather than buy a house for them both because, well, he thought this is what he would like better when he was a teenager. It was a space that Jack could call his own, and although it had initially given Cas anxiety to have Jack not at the apartment, it was ultimately for the best. Although, it had not started as such. Cas recalls Jack’s birthday and the first time he had shown him the loft.

“Well, what do you think?” Cas had asked hopefully. Jack had merely walked around the studio space with a speculative eye. Cas’s hopes had melted into a fear. He asked, “You don’t like it?”

“No, no, it’s great, it’s just,” Jack turned slowly back to Cas. His voice a little broken as he asked, “You don’t want to live with me anymore?”

“Oh, Jack, son, it’s not like that,” Cas had rushed, coming over to embrace him. He said, “That apartment is so small, and you’re not a kid anymore. You deserve your own space. I’ll be here everyday, in the morning and when you get back from school. Yeah, I’m worried but, well… Do you want to live here?”

Jack had listened and looked around again. A smile grew on his face and he nodded with surety. The only thought that had put Cas’s worrying heart to rest was that Jack was so genuinely good. He was fully capable of taking on his own space, and Cas was happy to provide that. 

Over a year has passed since then and Jack has proven to Cas over and over that they had made the right decision. 

Cas gets up and helps Jack as Hannah and Bart come in to prep the kitchen. It doesn’t take any of them long because there’s not much to do since they did it almost every day for years and years. The diner was small but respectful, the only one in the small town. And it was Cas’s… Although he didn’t always want this, he was glad that he had it now.

Turning the sign to open, he already had Jody and Donna walking in. They exchanged pleasantries, and soon Claire was sulking in behind Jody.

“Ugh, another day, another dollar,” Claire huffs as she goes around the counter and grabs her apron.

“Sorry for the wait, Cas,” Jody says, taking a seat at the bar with Donna and eyeing Claire. She continues to Cas, “Hit some road bumps on the way here.”

“Jesus, if you want to talk about me then just do it!” Claire states with a roll of her eyes and turns to Jack. They chat as Cas turns to Jody and Donna with mugs of coffee. They always come here right when Cas opens, it’s just a part of the daily routine and it sets his nerves to ease. Cas also thinks it’s a good break from Jody and Donna’s morning patrol, being two out of the five in the town’s police force.

“You hear about that storm rolling in?” Donna asks in her midwestern drawl, cutting into the omelette Cas had brought her. 

Cas shakes his head, “Haven’t turned on the radio yet.”

“Supposed to be a doozy,” Donna continues, taking a bite.

“Expect some heavy traffic, ‘kay?” Jody pipes up as a warning to Cas. He sighs. Just great. An unusually busy day to expect and he was closing two members short. The diner was placed just so that it was a few miles away from an exit off the main highway. There were strangers to expect, truck drivers, families on a road trip, and other transients. But when there was a storm, everyone got off the road and seemed to find shelter at the meek diner. Afterall, some people still were of the opinion that these holes in the walls were better than the McDonalds or gas station right off the highway.

Jody and Donna head out, promising again to be back in the afternoon; they always are. They leave but Claire remains as the weekend shift typically goes. Claire is also still in high school and the foster daughter of Jody. Although she runs with a different crowd than Jack (who is accustomed to his crowd being he himself) they get along well at work. Claire is hard edged, but she appreciates the sarcastic dialogue she shares with Cas. Even when she’s complaining, Cas can tell that she is here to work.

Just then, as Cas is pouring a mug of coffee for a trucker at the bar, she patted him roughly on the back and giggles as he almost spills the coffee, “Ah, thanks for letting me off tonight, Cas! I will definitely try to come in early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cas says with a sigh, putting the cup on the counter and finishing the pour there instead. He knows that if she’s partying than he should expect her later than today. Still, he is pleased that she at least was showing gratefulness. There were some days that if someone did her a favor you would hear nothing from her lips. She must be in a truly good mood, skipping over to the new table of a small family.

The storm had rolled in just as predicted. It was already busy, Hannah and Bart were throwing out food left and right; Jack and Claire were being especially amiable to the customers that filtered in and meandered out. Soon, the bar was full, not a table was in sight, and the mild music from the radio was drowned out by the hum of chatter and pounding of rain. At times like this, Cas had to do a little of everything around the diner to help where he could. They were working like a well-oiled machine, and Cas was pleased at the register amount by the time noon came around. 

The rain was still pouring with no sign of letting up. As a table of four tempted fate and was getting ready to leave, another semi-truck rolled into the back parking lot, splashing mud on the patrol car pulling into the front behind it. The groups exits, and before the door could swing close, another trucker rushes in. Behind the man came in Jody and Donna, just as they did every day at this time.

The man seems to pay them no mind and sat with a huff at the vacant booth Jack had just bussed at an inhuman speed - there were no more seats. The two officers eyed the large booth where the man was sitting alone, but he showed no sign of leaving. Cas noticed all of this and met Jody’s eyesight. She shrugged and they were turning to leave but he gestured for them to wait a moment. 

He found Claire as she rounded the counter with a pile of dishes on a tray. He stopped her briefly after putting in a rush order to Hannah, saying, “Hannah’s bringing out some to-go dishes, could you bring them to Jody and Donna in their car with some coffee?”

Claire sighed heavily as she unloaded the dishes, “Kind of busy here!”

Cas gave her a dangerous look and she rolls her eyes, “Fine!”

Claire may have been upset by the disturbance, but it was nothing compared to Cas’s mood at the ill-mannered trucker whom had gotten to the table before the deputies. He couldn’t really be that upset, he was just frustrated because of the long day and not being able to accommodate his neighbors.

Still, Cas puts his best foot forward as he takes an order pad and approaches the man’s table.

He’s wearing a heavy, leather coat that’s wet from the rain, hunched over, studying his phone’s map app next to the menu on the tabletop. Cas approaches with a soft smile, “Hi, something I can start you off wi-”

“Coffee,” the man cuts him off with a grumble, not bothering to look up. Cas’s brow raises, asking slowly, “Sugar or cream?”

The man doesn’t reply, just studying the navigation on his phone screen. Cas clicks his pen closed and lowers the pad, huffing as patiently as possible, “Alright then.”

Cas could be described as frustrated. He was accustomed to rude customers, but the circumstances shaping this particular day had him being set off by the lone trucker. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm down.

A cup of coffee is simple enough, but he prays that the man orders something else, especially if he’s planning on sticking around. He has plenty of other customers that would like a dry place, table, and food. He’s pouring the coffee quickly and glances back up to see the man getting Jack’s attention. They exchange a few words and Jack comes back to the bar.

“Hey, what did that man say to you just now?” Cas pulls Jack aside, asking out of sheer curiosity.

Jack shrugs, “He asked for the wifi password.”

“Okay,” Cas says with a pat on Jack’s back before he gets back to work. Cas can’t help his brow raise as a means to an eye roll as he puts back down the coffee decanter and comes back around. Asking for wifi was a sign that the man was settling in… Great.

He sets the mug in front of him and pulls back out the order pad once more. Asking with a more tense but similar tone as before, “Anything to eat?”

“No,” the man says curtly. Cas takes a deep breath, not knowing why he’s choosing to fight this particular battle as he continues, “We have some great lunch specials. Burger, salads, sandwiches-”

“Look,” the man interrupts once more. Cas can feel his own impatience escalate as the man finally looked up at him and continues, “I said-”

The man chokes on his words as their eyes meet. The trucker is handsome, no doubt, but something about his face and the green sheen of his eyes catches an old familiarity. Cas doesn’t chase that train of thought, instead a little confused at the tense silence that falls between them after what was going to be a confrontational experience. The man is just _staring_ at him, and Cas feels awkward at merely standing there.

His eyes darted to the side, seeing the diner full and a pulse of anxiety overtakes him. He looks back to the man, who is still staring with intensity at Cas’s face. Cas clears his throat, asking just as curtly as the man had responded, “So, you want anything besides coffee?”

“Um,” the man says, full lips working to form words but nothing comes out. Cas cocks an impatient brow at him. So much for the kindness move… Cas is just a little fed up by this person’s behavior now. And the face the trucker wears tinges a bad note in Cas’s chest.

“Yeah, uh,” the guy finally says, voice much softer. He also clears his throat, blinking and finishing, “Yeah, a burger is fine.”

Cas sighs with relief. At last, _something_! Cas turns on his heels, writing on his pad as he says shortly, “Great.”

There goes their tip, but he wasn’t expecting much to begin with. Still, he bites his lip, knowing that he had let his emotions get the best of him. He puts in the order and looks around the diner for what needs to be done next.

The trucker stares at him plainly. Cas’s eyes shift quickly and he turns his back to him. There is something about the face, eyes, and demeanor of the trucker that tickles memories that Cas had long ago suppressed, giving him a bad feeling. Some traumatizing experiences in high school and Cas was assigning anyone that looked like his first love with the same rageful thoughts he had of the boy who broke his heart.

Cas shakes his head, wishing for the first time in a long while that this day would be over.

The burger comes and Cas asks Jack to take it to the man’s table. Cas peaks over after a while only to see if he’s actually eating it, and feels a pang in his chest at seeing the man scarf it down. A small smile spreads on his face that he quickly wipes away.

The rain’s onset yields and the diner’s inhabitants trickle out. Cas is helping in the back when Jack comes to him wildly. 

“Uh! Cas! Uh!” Jack starts anxiously.

“What’s going on, Jack?” Cas asks gently. Jack looks as if he’s fit to cry, saying with a shaky tone, “One of the customers wants to talk with you. He’s not from around here, it seemed like he liked his food, I’m so sorry if I messed up, I-”

“It’s alright,” Cas says with a sigh, turning away from his duties and wiping his hands on a rag at his apron waist as he pushes through the door with a furrowed brow, Jack following. An unhappy customer was never fun.

“That’s him,” Jack whispers as he gestures over to the rude trucker at the booth, still sitting alone with just another coffee in front of him again, “The one that asked me for the wifi.”

Cas takes a deep breath and hesitates. He really doesn’t want to go over there, doesn’t want to let this guy walk all over him and demand a free meal or something.

Jack sees the hesitation and asks, “You okay, Cas?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” Cas says, not being able to take his eyes off the mug in front of the trucker.

“He asked for you by name,” Jack comments. Cas reels around to him with wide eyes. Jack’s face is confused as he asks, “Do you know him?”

Cas blinks, but shakes his head with an infallible smile, “No. No, of course not. I’ll go see what’s going on. Just clean up, yeah?”

Jack nods, turning to go. Cas takes a deep, levelling breath and comes to the customer.

“Everything go down well?” Cas asks as politely as he can muster to that kind of face. The man looks up with a start, not from his phone but from deep thought. Cas’s brow furrows as the man looks at him over again and says nothing.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Cas offers with a controlled tone. The man’s mouth works before he looks down with a furrowed brow, “Um, yeah, do you know a good place to stay the night?”

Cas resists with all his might to roll his eyes, because the question is so ridiculous; there was a million people and things to ask that rather than Cas. Besides, Jack had said he had asked for Cas specifically…

Cas shakes his head and replies, “Yeah, there’s a motel past the roadhouse bar. You take a right out of here, go down a bit, left on Willmaker Drive, and then it’s on the left.”

Cas is looking out the window and pointing as he directs. When he turns back to the man he notices that he has been staring at his face and not seeming to focus on what he’s saying. Cas is almost at his limit. His brow lifts as he says in a low, slow grumble, “Should I write it down?”

The man blinks, “No, no. I got it. Take a left on uh…”

“Willmaker.”

“Right. Willmaker, on the left.”

Cas nods and another silence falls. He wonders if this was really all there was to be asked from the man. Cas feels like his time was purposely sabotaged and he can’t wait until this guy becomes Meg, the motel owner’s problem and not his.

“Is there anything else then?” Cas asks with a note of his true impatience with the conversation.

“Yeah, well, uh, actually...” the man begins, his voice catching at an awkward chuckle that escapes him. Cas’s eyes squint in suspicion. What the hell is up with this guy?

The man’s half smile fades as his eyes bear into Cas’s. Cas wishes he could look away, but finds his gaze anchored as the man asks breathlessly, “This might sound weird, but, um… Are you Castiel Kline?”

Cas’s eyes bulge and his pulse accelerates. Fuck. It couldn’t be… But Cas already knows it’s true and his throat feels as if it’s being choked by some anonymous force. He tries to swallow, because he’s pretty damn sure this is exactly who he had feared: the very man who had just ditched Cas, whom Cas wasn’t able to talk to and get that closure he desperately needed as an adolescent.

Cas’s brow relaxes and he tries to play it cool. He takes a deep breath and replies coldly, “Do I know you?”

Dean shakes his head a little, a smile fighting to fit on his lips. Cas resists the temptation to search Dean's face - so much older, yet still so tan and features so defined, even with a heavy scruff that he sports - and keeps his eyes level to Dean’s. A surprised huff of laughter falls out of Dean as he says, “It’s me, Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Cas’s brow creases in pain and his eyes dart to the side. He thought he could withstand it, but god, was it like a stab to the chest to hear Dean confirm that it was him.

“Oh,” Cas says, feet fidgeting with a flight response. He huffs out with no trace of friendliness, “Crazy. Well, good to see you again. Safe travels.”

Something starts to come out of Dean’s mouth but Cas is already turned and all but running to the back again.

Jack catches him at the kitchen door, “Hey, what did he want?”

“Directions,” Cas says quickly. Jack’s head tilts curiously, opening his mouth with no doubt another question, but Cas cuts him off, walking away as he says, “I’m going to lunch. Take your breaks whenever.”

Cas escapes, mind tumbling with visions of green eyes and tan, weathered skin.

###### 

Cas hangs in the back office for longer than usual, slowly migrating towards the kitchen but not daring to return to the bar or dining area until he is certain that enough time has elapsed for Dean to have left.

Still, he walks with some trepidation while walking back to the area. Peeking around the corner, he sighs with relief that the booth Dean had been occupying is now vacant. The dining area is completely back at its humble occupancy.

Cas sighs with relief, but he sucks it back in as a hand slaps on his shoulder from behind. Cas spins around wildly, eyes wide with fear. His sigh returns as he sees it’s just Bart, probably returning from his smoke break. 

“Hey, Cas,” Bart says with a worried brow, “You alright? You don’t look so good.”

Cas sighs, putting his hand to his forehead, “Yeah, I’m not feeling that well, I guess.”

Bart shrugs, “Why don’t you go home for the night, man? Jack will have it covered.”

Cas shakes his head, “No, I promised him and Claire the night off.”

Bart groans, “What? Why?”

Cas shrugs, “He’s going to a party, Bart. A real _party_. I can’t ask him to stay now.”

“Yeah, that’s rough,” Bart replies, “But you need to take care of yourself, boss.”

Bart sighs and crosses his arms. Cas gulps some air, knowing this must not sit well with his real full time employees. Still, he can be rest assured that they have his support. All three of them had gone through a lot together, and it seemed as though Bart was more concerned about Cas than about Jack going to a party.

Cas nods, “Yes, well, maybe you’re right… I have some medicine back at home, could you and Hannah watch over things while I’m gone?”

Bart nods with a smile, “Of course.”

Cas nods again, feeling worse, “Okay, Claire and Jack should be leaving in around an hour. I’ll be back by close. If you need anything or something happens just-”

“Cas, buddy, you live like two minutes away,” Bart interrupts reassuringly. Cas sucks in his breath. He had been trying to get Jack out of the habit of talking too much about something meenial, but perhaps that was all coming from him. Another thing to worry about, Cas supposed. Bart continues, “We got it. Go take a breather. Everything will be here by the time you get back.”

Cas nods again, thanking Bart before turning and catching Jack at the bar.

“Hey, Jack,” Cas starts, rubbing at his head that is beginning to form a harsh headache, “I’m going home for a bit and I won’t be back by the time you head out.”

“Oh, okay,” Jack says, biting his lip, then spitting out, “You know, I was thinking about just staying and help close.”

Cas blinks, saying, “What about your party?”

Jack looks away, shrugging as he wipes down the counter. 

Cas’s brow creases, “Everything okay?”

Jack shrugs, “I was thinking of skipping the party. You know, like we had a busy day and-”

“Jack,” Cas says kindly, “Are you nervous?”

Jack’s eyes shift around as he nods gently. Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, “I know, parties can be a lot. But they’re also stupid. Go tonight, and if you don’t have a good time then at least you tried.”

Jack puts on a soft smile and peeks up at his father. He asks weakly, “Was it this hard for you back in high school?”

Cas laughs and then sucks it back in, brow raised, “Yeah. But that was a while ago. And by the time you’re my age you probably won’t even remember tonight.”

Jack blinks but nods solemnly. His lips turn slightly as he flushes and asks, “Oh, um… Could I maybe take the truck tonight please?”

Cas sighs deeply but nods. He stops and then sternly points at Jack, “No drinking, though.”

Jack balks, “Cas, it would be illegal of me to imbibe alcohol.”

Cas rolls his eyes and smiles fondly. The words would sound like a joke if it weren’t coming from Jack, bless that kid. An honest kid. And perhaps he would make some friends by being the designated driver. He turns his eyes back to Jack and squeezes his arm, “Just be safe, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” Jack says, coming in to hug him. Cas hugs him in return, patting him on the back.

They separate and say their goodbyes for the night. Cas walks out of the diner and is glad to see that the rain had dwindled to a drizzle. In its wake, a forgiving cold front had tiptoed into town. He quickly makes the short trek back to his home in the only apartment complex in town. He lives on the second floor out of two and considers on his walk up the steps to call Gadreel and ask him to come close for the night. He’s their regular server at the diner, and weekends are his only days off. Cas shakes his head, getting rid of the unnecessary idea as he unlocks his door.

Cas collapses against the cold wood of the door after it closes. His mind doesn’t have anything else to worry about, so he lets the dam break and all the thoughts of Dean come rushing in. Cas closes his eyes and remembers…

He remembers how high school was such a drama. But Dean and him got through it together… Until there was no more Dean. And then what was Cas to do? He wishes that his teenage years hadn’t been so tumultuous, wishes that Dean hadn’t left, wishes that he hadn’t come back now and hopes that he will never see him again, as Cas had already thought would be the case.

But god, it had been so good when it was good. It pisses him off how hard he had fallen in love with Dean back then. The thought of him still boils his blood, all the good memories shrouded with a veil of heartache. They had been each other’s first… Well, first everything!

First date, first love, first… The events were out of order, though. The first big moment had been Cas and Dean fumbling at each other’s young bodies in the dark and frantically making each other cum. It had been hot, fast, awkward, but unforgettable. At the time, he had considered himself lucky to have such a person to experience all these great things with. They had both been clumsy and apologetic, but the payoff was all the same. Even now, years later, Cas still considers his first sexual experience to be one of his best. And that was rough, because, as was explained, Cas hates those memories now.

His pants jerk and Cas looks down with surprise to see his cock erect and stretching the front of his jeans. He groans with aggravation; not again.

It’s been a long time since Cas had someone in his bed. A long time… A very, very, _very_ long time. And that had been alright with Cas because he was taking care of Jack. He doesn’t want Jack to end up like his blood father and Cas’s brother, Lucifer, whom is still deep in federal prison. He needs all the attention and guidance Cas can give.

But Jack has his own place now, and it has been weighing on Cas to how much he really masturbates. His sex life isn’t healthy (or existent), but he does what he can in a small, nosy town like this. He doesn’t feel as if his community will disenfranchise him, he’s just fearful of any drama that may arise from Cas having a love interest.

And with that sad outlook in mind, he drifts to the bathroom, undresses methodically, and starts cleaning his ass. 

He has never gone home from work to take a break to jerk off, but a lot of things have happened today that don’t usually occur. Besides, he knows it will happen eventually, and he is here so he might as well get it over with.

After sufficiently clearing out his ever faithful cavity, Cas slumps to the bedroom and crawls onto his bed. His cock is still hard - probably harder than he’s been in some time - but he lazily reaches in the bottom drawer of his nightstand and grabs the lube with his faithful vibrator.

A liberal amount of lube and a switch to a low vibrate setting and Cas is more than ready.

He gets on his knees and puts his face in the pillow, bending over and closing his eyes as he reaches around and pushes the tip of the lubed vibrator. He knows the rhythm, how slow he needs to go and how to work the vibrator in just right. It was all so expected and routine… Typically this consoled him and felt right, but now it was just dull.

He wonders why was he even doing this; simply completing some bodily release, perhaps. The action feels so despondent, but his hand continues and he moves the other to his jerking cock.

Damn that Dean. Damn Cas for still feeling _anything_ for such a scoundrel. And how dare he look so gorgeous. Now that Cas knows what he looks like, his mind scours his memory of earlier today. Dean is still so fit, which was surprising for any long term truck driver. And his complexion was a nice even tan with speckles of freckles under those big, green eyes. The wrinkles that etch his face are full of character and only highlight his strong bone structure. Green eyes that had not changed in their hue but had a different density to it. Lips that were like that Mr. Sandman song: “like roses and clover.” Cas wants to set that flower and field on fire.

Cas moans loudly, not realizing how much his cock was drooling over his hand. He growls at his mind thinking of Dean so much. His hand on the vibrator pumps harder and harder; harder than he has in a moment as his prostate feels pummeled. Cas’s moans become screams into his pillow as he pushes the vibrator in all the way, pressing it up so harshly his grip on his cock tightens out of the sheer intensity. 

The strength of both positions combined sends shock waves of pleasure through Cas as he cums over his bedsheets. 

Cas yanks the vibrator out of him unceremoniously and collapses on his bed. That was awful, and he feels empty. He hates himself for doing this… He is spent and lonely.

His outstretched limbs spasm on the bed and he grips his pillow tight as he smothers his face further into it. A scream rips through him and he pounds his fists and legs on the bed for a moment before completely going limp, muffled voice dying.

The back of his eyelids are nothing and he sinks into the void. He allows his mind to go blank for a moment before the inevitable clean, shower, and dredging back to the diner. The blankness of it all is a nice reprieve from a heart wrenching day.

###### 

Returning to the diner was harder than it had ever been for Cas before. He had arrived to find an empty dining area (which was consistent with the time of night), Jack and Claire gone, and his cooks cleaning the kitchen efficiently. Everything is just as it is supposed to be, and Cas sighs with content that he can leave all his sorrows in the past hour at home.

“Hey,” Cas says, approaching Hannah and Bart. They look up during their tasks, and Cas continues, “You guys can go home for the night, I got the rest of it.”

The two cooks eye each other and Hannah bites her lip. Cas tries on a chuckle, “What?”

“You just look,” Hannah says with concern, “I don’t know… flushed?”

“Yeah, are you still feeling sick?” Bart chimes in. 

Cas blushes, trying not to think about what he had just done in his apartment in case Hannah and Bart can read it on his face. He waves his hand, replying as casually as possible, “I’m better now, really. You kids take off early, don’t worry about me.”

Hannah and Bart smile at each other, both not kids but still appreciating the wane of their cleaning responsibilities.

“Well,” Hannah says hesitantly, “If you’re sure.”

Cas nods, “I insist. You were both great today. I’ll count out your tips right now.”

Cas counts it out quickly as Hannah and Bart come around with their personal belongings. They give one another proverbial pats on the back and say goodnight. Finally, Cas is alone again. He exhales deeply, glad that he can take his time closing and get lost in methodical work of cleaning.

He flips the sign to closed, locks the front door, and turns up the radio to let his mind wander into the blankness of cleaning just as he had after his wrenching orgasm. And thankfully the night goes on and, without looking at the clock, Cas already feels like he is winding down faster than he had hoped. All he has to return to at home is a book from the tiny library. His movements slow.

Cas uses his tender ass to push open the diner’s back door leading to the side alley where the dumpster is, pulling out the two full trash cans out after him. The door slammed closed and Cas moves over to the dumpster, the rumbling of the trash cans’s wheels against the asphalt booming against the otherwise quiet night. 

The alley is enclosed, which is rare for a spread out middle American town. The building adjacent is owned by a tailor that only comes in for her specialty wears, like wedding dress modifications and the like. To Cas, it serves as a neighbor to cozy against his own establishment. Their roofs barely touch, creating a sort of shade from the elements above. The two older, similar styled brick walls from each respective building frame a rectangular alley with only Cas’s exterior light from his side to illuminate the walk to the dumpsters that sits against the end of the wall. Between the service door and the dumpster is an exterior stairwell that leads up to Jack’s loft, and where the two buildings end is an opening to the great outdoors of Kansas’s wide, green planes. 

This is all very well known to Cas and, although he is not in the habit of taking out the trash himself, he could do the run with a blindfold on.

The lid makes a clatter against the wall as Cas heaves it open. He’s about to turn back to the trash cans when he hears a voice from behind him call, “Hey, Cas.”

Not expecting anyone at this hour, Cas whips around to - Dean motherfucking Winchester. He’s leaning against the other building, vaguely veiled in shadows yet Cas still recognizes him.

He attempts to adjust his shock into a placid countenance as he casually moves to the trash, ignoring the tremor in his hands as he asks with impatience, “What are you doing here, Dean?”

Cas looks up to see Dean pushing his body off the wall, moving closer to Cas as he replies, “Just waiting for the weather to clear up before I hit the road.”

Cas moves away instinctually, back bumping against the dumpster, stopping him, saying with the same tone, “Yeah, well, the storm passed.” 

Dean shrugs, stopping a ways away and leans against the opposite brick wall, now fully illuminated from the diner’s light. Cas exhales gratefully that Dean is keeping his distance, but he doesn’t relax.

He fixes Dean with a squinted, penetrating look, continuing, “And that’s not what I meant.”

Dean meets his gaze with an easy eye. Cas hates him for it, for not feeling just as anxiety ridden as Cas is.

Dean takes a deep breath and looks off into the night, saying offhandedly, “I’m going for a walk, call the police why don’t ya?”

Cas rolls his eyes, saying before lifting a bag out of the trash and tossing it into the dumpster, “Don’t tempt me.”

Dean laughs and Cas tenses, not expecting such a glorious noise. He shakes his head and take another bag, minding his own business.

“So, working at a rundown diner, huh?” Dean says from behind him conversationally.

“I own this ‘rundown’ diner, thank you very much,” Cas replied curtly, turning back to Dean with the a new furocity. How dare he judge him for the diner, and Cas will say as much as he retorts, “Who are you to talk, huh? You’re a truck driver.”

Dean moves a little closer, chuckling as he says, “Yep. Living the dream.”

Cas loses some momentum then, wanting to instigate a fight and not a chat. His brow furrows, eyeing Dean up and down; the leather jacket is gone, leaving a fresh red button up with a black tee underneath. His clothes hug his toned figure well. Cas tries again: “You look terrible.”

“Well, you, on the other hand, you,” Dean checks Cas out with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looking good.”

Cas turns around with a flourish to the other trash, not going to feed into Dean’s flirt just as Dean wasn’t playing into Cas’s instigation.

Dean clears his throat, pressing on, “I’m just here for the night… Can I buy you a drink?”

“No.” 

Another bag in the dumpster flies.

“Well, could we just talk then?”

“There’s nothing to say.”

A silence falls and Cas feels a swell of uncertainty in his chest as his limbs go still; he’s glad that had shut up Dean, but Cas is suddenly wishing he’d have some kind of come back. And then it comes like a bullet in the back: “You’re still hung up about high school, aren’t you?”

Cas drops the last garbage bag on the ground and turns to Dean, ready for a fight. His knuckles are clenched, but all that comes out of him is the harshest lie he can think up, “Of course not. High school didn’t mean _anything_.”

Dean has moved parallel to him on the other wall, but he starts to slowly cross the distance now, saying, “Oh, okay, then what’s up with the cold shoulder?”

Cas eyes the shortening distance between them, “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Well,” Dean begins, stopping only a foot away from Cas, “Is there anything I owe _you_ then?”

Cas’s eyes slowly trail up from Dean’s feet up to meet his eyes. Cas wants to scream in his face like he had his pillow, assault Dean’s tall handsome figure like he had his mattress. He thinks of all his options, not daring to speak until he’s certain what action he’ll take.

Dean doesn’t wait, he bites his lip before asking, “You want me to leave?”

And dammit, yeah Cas _wants_ to want him to leave but he can’t bring himself to tell him so, to say that he never wants to see him again. 

Cas is still silent, his racing mind finally landing on an idea… A sinister, awful idea. An idea that has his heart skipping and filling his mind so that it seems like there is no other ways to confront Dean.

“Look, I’ll just-” Dean begins but Cas doesn’t let him continue as he clears the distance between them, roughly pressing his lips against Dean’s. And then he pulls away, the space still so minimal between them, suffocating a surprised gasp he feels coming up by pressing his lips together tightly. Dean does the same, looking at him, dazed.

Castiel instantly regrets his decision. Now that it happened, it feels so desperate and sudden and, god! Dean may have a monogamous, significant other and he really might have just wanted to catch up. And it is Cas’s turn to apologize and perhaps go find a hole to live in for the rest of his life.

Cas opens his mouth to say sorry just as Dean’s hands come to grip either side of his face and bringing him into a passionate kiss. They lick into each other’s mouths, and, yes, okay, this was a better result than Cas was fearing.

Cas moans into Dean’s mouth that produces a growl from the other man, having him pushing Cas against the wall behind him. 

This kind of shit only happens with Dean. Cas never does this, even when he was actively dating someone. He was always “ask before you kiss someone” and “go slow, tortoise wins the race” mentality. But that was all forsaken at the wild thoughts Dean had elicited in him. And now, he wasn’t sure what he is capable of. He doesn’t even know the means to the end of feeling those glorious lips against his, but he doesn’t care. And it seems Dean doesn’t either.

They’re biting and licking and kissing into each other with no reservations, as if the past two decades of want and hurt could be healed through a makeout session. They can’t.

But Cas isn’t thinking about that.

Cas’s mind is in a deep bliss of action and reaction, blank and pure with this missed sensation; the sensation of human contact. And, Lord, how he’s missed it.

Cas’s hands are trailing up and down Dean’s torso, feeling his fit chest and pushing past the red button up. He feels Dean’s smile against his lips before he hears the chuckle. Cas doesn’t care that Dean is stopping, instead biting and kissing at his collarbone. Dean says slyly, “I thought you said I look terrible?”

“Shut up,” Cas growls against Dean’s skin. He grabs onto his shirt, manhandling Dean back and then over, flipping their positions.

Dean gasps, but Cas quickly covers his mouth with his own. Dean breathes deeply through his nose as he grabs at Cas’s back and ass. Cas moves up into him, his own hands going to pet and grab at Dean’s short hair.

His first evil idea melts into another as he feels Dean’s hardening dick against his own member growing through their jeans. And hell, the first idea worked out so well, so maybe…

Cas breaks away suddenly and Dean's eyelids flutter open to look down at Cas. He has no smartass smile now, just a dumbfounded look as he begins to whisper roughly, “Fuck, Cas, I forgot how good it is to kiss you-”

“I said don’t talk,” Cas cuts him off. He grabs Dean’s wrist and pulls him to the darkened opening behind the diner. Right at the corner, Cas presses Dean back up against the shadowed wall.

“Cas, what are you-” Dean begins to ask before Cas is interrupts him again to answer in form of kiss. He doesn’t want to talk, just to feel.

Dean is getting the idea, grasping at Cas’s body with crazed need as they rut into each other and their lips and tongues work together. Cas gives a long bite to Dean’s bottom lip; they open their eyes halfway, gaze meeting before Cas is done biting. A small moan escapes Dean and Cas's nerve is steeled. 

He begins sinking to his knees. 

Cas hears Dean’s breath stop as Cas begins to undo Dean’s pants. Then, a gust of air in the form of words punches out of the man above, “Oh, god yes, Cas.”

That’s all Cas needs before he’s taking out Dean’s cock. He’s catching every one of Dean’s hiccups in breath as he spits on his hand rubs it up and down well endowed dick in front of him.

And then he just goes for it; his tongue and lips cup Dean’s cock head and then he is pushing further. And further, and further. He opens his throat and takes all of Dean in. Dean is gulping in air and his hand comes clenching down into Cas’s hair. Cas feels satisfied; this is a trick he definitely didn’t have when he was a teenager.

Cas moves his head up and down on Dean’s dick, and the man really stops breathing, putting his other hand on Cas’s shoulder as to not lose balance.

But this is not Cas’s end plan; he wants more.

Looking up at Dean, Cas catches his eyes and Dean’s cock twitches in his throat. Maintaining eye contact, Cas pops off of Dean’s cock complete. Instead, he takes Dean’s hand from his shoulder and brings two fingers into his mouth.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks in a husky voice. Cas takes the slick digits out of his mouth and slowly gets to his feet. Nose to nose with Dean, he cock pressing up against Cas’s bulge in his pants, he says, “Fuck me, Dean.”

Dean blinks at him, “Huh?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Cas says plainly, eyes boring into Dean’s, “Here. Right now.”

“Um,” comes out of Dean’s mouth, but Cas is already in too deep. He narrows his eyes and asks genuinely, “Do you not want to?”

“No, I do. It’s just,” Dean bites his lip, looking back at Cas sincerely, asking, “Are you sure?”

Cas feels his vision dim with lust at Dean’s confirmation and the last words Dean asks don’t matter anymore. So as an answer he begins to unbutton his own pants, kissing at Dean’s mouth again with a newfound thirst.

Cas moves past Dean and puts his hands on the wall. Dean moves in behind him, his chest against Cas’s back, hands tugging down Cas’s pants and briefs. Cas feels Dean press his head against the crook of his neck, heavy breath tickling down his shirt collar. Dean ruts his hard, spit slicked cock between the top of his ass to the small of his back.

Then Dean’s head is gone and one of the hands that had been holding Cas’s hips leaves; Cas hears spitting and then feels a slippery finger at his hole. Dean pushes it in slowly, and Cas growls out, “No. More.”

Dean’s breath stutters but he adds another finger at the same pace, only pressing into the second knuckle. Cas had said _more_ , though. So he pushes his ass back, sighing with relaxation as he lets Dean’s fingers go all the way in. Cas can feel Dean’s cock against his ass cheek bounce as he tries to control his hips. Cas pulls back out and then comes back down as Dean’s fingers crook up and they both make a similar moan as Dean presses into his prostate. 

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean says loudly with a fever. 

Cas hisses, “Keep your voice down.”

“You’re just so-”

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean whimpers, spitting before Cas feels the trickle of cool saliva run around his hole and fingers. Dean catches it with his thumb, rubbing at Cas’s rim as he pulls his stuffed middle and ring finger apart, spreading Cas. He spits again, the drop hits his rim and slides down into him.

Cas contorts a moan into the form of words, “Be in me.”

Dean takes a deep breath, pulling the two fingers out but catching Cas’s spasming ass with his thumb and tugging. He hears Dean huff, “Shit… Okay, okay.”

Cas loses Dean’s touch from his other hip, hearing instead Dean spitting on his hand and stroking his cock against Cas’s ass. Lifting his dick, Cas feels the soft, wet head pressing at his opening as Dean holds one side of his hole open with his thumb. Cas’s body runs electric, nerve endings firing so blindingly.

Just like his had done sucking Dean and Dean fingering him, Cas pushes back on his hard cock with agonizing slowness, feeling every inch of Dean spreading him out (he was much thicker than two fingers), not stopping until Dean was bottomed out.

Dean had been silent that entire time, thumb right outside his rim and other hand resting on top of Cas’s clothed back. But, as Cas has him bottoming out in him, Dean comes to life. He grabs and squeezes at Cas’s hip and ass, leaning over him so that Dean’s chest was back on Cas’s shoulders, his nose right behind Cas’s ear and Dean’s lips at the top of his neck.

Their heavy breathing synchronizes as Dean starts to move in and out of Cas. At first, he tries to move all the way out, but Cas quickly bends over more to chase him. Dean huffs and grabs Cas’s wrists, holding them above his head against the wall. He presses harshly into Cas, which elicits a moan, and Dean hissing lowly against Cas’s ear, “You fucking bastard. How can you feel this good?”

“Mmm,” Cas growls back with lust, “Fuck you.”

“Fuck _me_?” Dean chuckles, and bites down on Cas’s ear as he slams back into Cas poignantly. Dean keeps one hand on Cas’s wrist and reaches to the front of Cas with the other, pushing the front of his briefs down past Cas’s own hardened cock. Dean uses the hand he had held his cock with to start stroking Cas’s, a grip as tight and rough as Dean was fucking him from behind.

Cas can’t help as his eyes roll back, closing his eyes tightly as he moans out, “Yessss…”

Dean grunts at Cas’s response, angling his cock down, pushing down on Cas’s ass and pressing into him at the same force; he roughly rubs right up into Cas’s prostate perfectly. 

Their breathing is ragged as Dean rides him shallowly, always rubbing up and over that sweet lump that has Cas’s legs buckling and arching his ass. But Dean is holding him up by the hip and by stroking his cock.

Then, a new sound. Cas jerks to a halt with half of Dean in him, eyes opening wide: a truck turns into the alley before the dumpster and parks, headlights shooting out past the opening at the back of the alley. Cas and Dean are slightly illuminated and Cas can hear his heart in his ears.

“Dea-” Cas can barely get out before Dean’s hand is off his cock and is covering Cas’s mouth and nose. He shoves himself all the way in Cas, pressing their bodies flat against the wall and oh god, Cas is so close. Dean bites into Cas’s neck as his body gives a wicked shudder.

The engine cuts off and the lights disappear. But then a truck door opens and closes, there are footsteps nearby. They approach, stop… they get closer.

“Bart?” Jack’s voice calls from the other side of the wall, “Hannah?”

His footsteps stop near the opening of alley, right where Dean and Cas are. Cas thinks he’s going to have a legitimate heart attack. Jack calls out once more, “Cas?”

Cas stays as still as possible. A beat, and then Jack’s feet begin to move away. Cas still doesn’t dare breathe, and he’s glad that Dean seems to be just as cautious.

Cas hears the bag of garbage he had dropped on the ground go into the dumpster. The dumpster lid closes and the wheels of the empty garbage cans echo down the space as the back door of the diner opens and closes, and the footsteps and wheels are gone.

Dean’s teeth release Cas’s neck and he growls, “Should we-?”

Cas shakes his head roughly. His cock is hard, actually enjoying the odd, sharp texture of the brick as he feels Dean’s cock twitch deep inside of him. Dean’s hand on his mouth smells like cock and he feels as if he’s under some spell. Dean ruts hard, moving his hips as to feel all around inside Cas’s ass. Cas attempts to steady his breath, but it’s difficult when he’s on fire.

The diner door opens and closes again, but thankfully the footsteps retreat further back this time. Dean continues to move his hips and Cas could punch him for it. He’s trying to concentrate on Jack being gone and keeping his breath quiet, and it doesn’t help to be distracted in such a twisted way. Jack’s footsteps change from asphalt to the dull wood of the staircase to the loft. That door opens and closes, and Dean lets go of Cas’s mouth just on cue.

He pulls them both back from the brick wall, hand coming back to Cas’s cock.

Cas begins to work his ass with desperation against Dean’s dick. Dean is biting and kissing at Cas’s lower neck that is actually exposed, his other hand wrapped around Cas’s waist as they push into each other.

Dean’s breath hitches and his voice is muffled by Cas’s skin, “Goddammit, I’m close already.”

“Good,” Cas huffs, “Hurry up and make me cum.”

Dean grunts with a stubborn affirmation, but he does start to work harder. He pulls Cas’s waist on and off him with no control, strongly stroking the top half of Cas’s cock. Cas wants to finish yet go on forever, but this is a good direction to go in. He lets the pleasure pool in his gut, wants to release it. 

And then Dean moans with a tenderness that the circumstances don’t deserve, “Ah, Castiel...”

Cas is punched in the stomach by a bolt of lust and Dean angles Cas’s cock up as cum shoots out of him and onto his own shirt. Then Dean is pressing deep inside, breath catching roughly. He pumps his hips once, twice, and then again and he is at the end. Another wave crashes over Cas, and then another, and Cas feels like he’s cum more just then than he has in years on his own. Cas feels Dean’s slick, messy grip loosen but not leave Cas’s cock as he strokes him through it. Dean’s own cock is losing its mass inside of Cas. But both of them can’t seem to catch their breath, so enraptured in the shared experience.

Both their breathing levels out and Dean slowly pulls out of Cas. Cas can feel the cum running out of his asshole as it spasms. Dean touches Cas’s ass for a moment and says with wonder, “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Cas is completely out of desire now, although still dizzy from the intense orgasm, he swats Dean’s hand away as he stands up and pulls up his pants, back still to Dean. He starts to walk away.

“Cas, wait,” Dean begins. Cas stops, only halfway turning around and saying with none of the emotion that was really erupting inside: “Now I want you to leave.”

Dean makes a start to approach Cas, but he’s already turning away and walking again. Dean doesn’t follow.

###### 

Soon, Cas is collapsing onto his bed. Then, he is crying into his pillow.

He doesn’t feel upset with his decision, doesn’t regret using Dean, feeling minimal shame for almost getting caught by Jack. He’s just-crying; the source is obscure.

It’s been a long day. A long, confusing day, full of Dean. All in all, he feels spitefully good about making Dean cum inside of him; now he knows what he missed out on. And Cas can’t say that he doesn’t love the feeling of cum leaking out of him. 

Human contact was so nice, and being so rough with Dean was even better. He’d used him, but he also enjoyed the feeling of being used.

The crying sniffles to an end and Cas gets out of bed. First, he goes to his phone. There are three texts from Jack, one from over an hour ago and the other two from over thirty minutes ago. Cas’s heart races and he checks all of them. The first one reads: “ _I’m trying to have fun but am not. I think I’m just going to come home…_ ”

Cas gulps. The other two read: “ _Are you at the store? The trash cans were outside._ ” And the other right after says, “ _I brought them in. Oh, and I’m home._ ”

Cas types out quickly: “ _Yeah, my bad. Thanks for bringing them in. Will talk tomorrow morning. Love you, goodnight._ ” 

He sighs loudly with agony as he sends the text. Cas now does regret his time with Dean, because he wasn’t able to be there for his son. He trudges to the bathroom and begins cleaning himself of all this self loathing. 

In hindsight, it had been a good move (for the sex, at least) to masturbate when he came home, since the impromptu penetration was fairly clean and loose. Still, he takes his second shower for the day and pays extra care to make sure his anus isn’t torn or bleeding.

While the spray hits his face, Cas imagines Dean’s new face. He turns away to go through the motions of a shower.

Dean does have a new face to Cas, afterall. The image has Cas pondering what aging truly means. The Dean from tonight has only a shadow of what he had been as a teenager. So much so that Cas hadn’t recognized him at the diner at first. But Dean had seemed to recognize him right away… Cas washed off the rest of the soap and turned off the shower.

He went to the cabinet mirror above his sink and wiped away the condensation. He was met by a wrinkled face, lines running from the inner corners of his eyes to his jaw that cut his cheeks. These were all things that had slowly built from his original features over time. There was no way Dean should have known it was him so easily.

Over time cells die and regenerate in the body. After one’s mid-twenties, the cells begin to die faster than they regenerate. In the end, cells just die and organs shut off. But between birth and the inevitable death, a human regenerates all their cells many times. And although the DNA remains the same, the body of the person is redone over and over.

The Dean from today was as good as a stranger.

And as per custom of any one night stand, Cas was content that he would never interact with Dean Winchester again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'mr no one' - black moth super rainbow - panic blooms

A water bottle hit the back of Castiel’s head. A group of laughter erupted from the source.

Castiel didn’t dare turn around, but his hands shook as he tied his shoelaces on the bench in the boy’s locker room.

“Not going to say anything now, huh?” one of the boys, Asmod, called. Castiel ignored them.

“Asstiel doesn’t want to suck our dicks today,” Al laughed. Castiel finished tying his shoes and closed his locker door. 

The PE teacher, Coach Singer, stomped in, calling for laps.

Castiel kept a good distance ahead of everybody, especially the three boys who teased him the most. It was easy to stay ahead; Castiel enjoyed athletics and the boys who bullied him just walked and josh around in the back. 

His mind was clear with the cold September air that filtered through his lungs evenly. The day was overcast and he got lost in the rolling gray of the wide Kansas sky.

He looked at the same sky through all his classes’s windows, and when he had to pass through the hall he looked down at the patterns on the tile. 

The last bell rang and Castiel returned to the locker rooms. Nobody on the wrestling team talked to him, but they didn’t make fun of him either. The third member of his tormentor’s, Ash, was on the team though. Although he didn’t actively instigate Castiel while alone, he was known around the school as being the town gossip.

“Ash, is it true?” one of the teammates, Drex, asked on the other side of the locker room, “About that new boy at the house? Is he really coming here?”

“He should be in juvie!” Raul chimed in.

“I heard he punched a cop!” Drex added.

“No, h-he bit him!” Jervis piped up, “A-and escaped from his handc-cuffs!”

“He did all _three_!” Ash said with dramatic flare. It landed, and the other boys chattered amongst themselves in fear. He paused before continuing, “And he starts here. Tomorrow!”

“No way.”

“Better watch your stuff.”

“Robin said she saw him at the Cus’s,” Raul said in a hushed voice, “I think she _like_ likes him!”

“Ugh! Bad boys always get the girls,” Ash agonized.

Castiel went through the motions of warm ups, drills, matches, and stretches with the rest of the team. The practice ended too soon for Castiel’s taste, and as all the teammates went out for food, Castiel walked home alone.

He lived in a full house of his brothers and sisters. Their dad was away on another book tour, and Luci was in charge of his younger siblings. That meant that the house was a wreck.

Castiel’s refuge was his room; tidy and neat, everything had a place. He mostly did his homework at his small desk, but he always finished too quickly. Then, he read his library book from that week. 

A light tap at the door. Castiel looked up as little Samand waddled in. Castiel set down his book and sat up in his bed, asking, “Hey, you hungry, big man?”

“Hungry,” Samand began to cry. Castiel sighed and got up, taking Samand’s hand walking with him to the kitchen.

He made a big pot of spaghetti and meatballs, but they didn’t have any cheese or bread left. He used the last of the salt.

Everybody got a dish - Samandriel, Uriel, Anna, and Naomi - and sat down at different places. Castiel made his own plate as Lucifer came in with a joint lit, taking Castiel’s plate from his hands.

“Hey, thanks, buddy,” Luci said slowly, putting the joint out on the table. Castiel coughed and waved his hand in the air, eyeing Luci. Luci looked back at him, “What? You wanted a hit?”

“You shouldn’t do that in here,” Castiel said under his breath.

Luci laughed and pushed at Castiel’s head with his hand, “And you should stop being such a little bitch!”

Luci laughed all the way back to the television. Castiel looked in the pot with a deep sorrow and took the meager portion left. He went back to his room and ate, wishing that Gabriel, Raphael, or even Michael were here; anybody but Lucifer. Yet, they had lives and jobs outside of town. At that point, though, Castiel thought that even his older sister, Naomi, a senior at the high school, could watch them better than the freeloader Luci.

Another knock at the door. Castiel looked up as Anna came in, “Hey.”

Castiel nodded his head in greeting. She came in and sat on the floor with her plate. Anna was only a year younger than him. Still, she had a slightly better reputation at the school, despite her being a sophomore and friends with Castiel in public.

“How are you holding up?” Anna asked.

Suddenly, Castiel didn’t want to finish the little bit of a meal he had.

“Castiel,” Anna began, “Why didn’t you tell Coach Singer what really happened? Then-”

“I did,” Castiel interrupts, looking out through his window, “Principle Manners said I should have not taken it so personally…”

Anna sighs, “I’m sorry, Castiel… Argh! It just makes me so mad! They shouldn’t be able to get away with that!”

Castiel remains silent. He’s tired of being angry about it. He’d punched Al over a week ago, and he wished that things would stop getting worse.

“Well,” Anna says with a more positive tone, “At least you’re done with detention, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Castiel replied quietly. He had actually enjoyed detention; he got to read safely, and Coach Singer helped him train afterwards so he could keep up with the team.

“Hey, did you hear about the new kid at Sonny’s?” Anna asked with a shift. Castiel looked back at her and nodded. Anna scooted forward eagerly, “Robin saw him at Cus’s Place. She has such a big crush on him, she was gushing about him forever today! He’s supposed to be _so_ cute!”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said, picking at the jean at his knee, “There’s already a lot of rumors…”

“Exactly!” Anna continued, hitting Castiel’s knee for punctuation, “The heat will finally be off of you for awhile!”

Castiel looked up at her hopeful smile and tried one on; it didn’t fit.

“Hey, uh,” Anna begins, looking around, “Could you help me with my math?”

Castiel eyes his sister and then nods. She jumps up, taking their plates, saying, “Great! I’ll be right back!”

Castiel helps Anna until she’s got it figured out. He helps the little ones to bed, says goodnight to Naomi, and puts a blanket over Lucifer’s unconscious body on the couch. Castiel heads to bed, reading himself into slumber so he doesn’t have to think about tomorrow.

###### 

Castiel was tying his shoes on the bench in the boy’s locker room when the door slammed open and the group of boy’s laughter came, already loud and excited.

“Oh, oh, dude! Watch this!” Asmod said as Castiel could hear them getting closer, “It’s a daily ritual!”

A water bottle hit the back of Castiel’s head and he didn’t flinch - he was used to it. 

The boys cackled. Asmod hooted, “Nothing but net!”

“Oh, check this out,” Al supplied. Castiel heard a paper crumpling and then felt it pelt his back. They laughed again.

Castiel couldn’t help as he looked behind his shoulder at the group. They were all laughing and egging him on, but one - a new face. 

All Castiel could focus on were two large, green eyes staring at him. Staring at Castiel with an unreadable, straightfaced countenance. Castiel held his eyes for one more moment before turning away again. The other boys booed.

The sky was partly cloudy, and Castiel enjoyed watching the clouds moves against the distant blue. 

The morning exercise’s sky transformed to classroom’s skies through the windows. One of his favorite windows was his first real period after PE - history class. 

History class was as relaxing as Castiel felt he could get at school. He didn’t have to pay much attention since it was his only non-honors course. And he had a cozy seat near the back against the wall with the windows, so he could watch the clouds uninterrupted.

“Class,” the teacher, Mrs. Doyle, spoke properly, “Say hello to our new student, Dean Winchester.”

Castiel’s eyes slid from the window to the front of the class. There stood the green eyed boy that had been with Asmod and his gang. Castiel could get a good look at him now: he was much taller than matronly Mrs. Doyle. He was wearing a beat up leather jacket, a flannel, some ratted shirt, jeans and boots. A sad get up, but one that oddly fit him well. Around his tan neck was a golden pendent on a black chord. 

“Dean,” the teacher continued after a pause, “Is there anything you’d like to tell us about yourself?”

Dean looked at her and shrugged, a sonorous voice snidely saying, “Not really.”

The teacher pursed her lips and maintained Dean’s eyes. Castiel looked back out the window.

“Take a seat, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel heard her sternly tell Dean.

Castiel took on last glance over to watch the new boy walk to an open seat near the back. He also noticed Amanda Heckerling turning around to smile at Dean.

At the end of class, Castiel waited, as usual, until all the students had left before he exited.

Anna met Castiel outside his class and pulled him aside with a tug. He couldn’t get a word in before, her face stopped him. She was pale as she huffed out: “Quiz.”

“What?” Castiel asked as she pulled him along.

“A quiz!” Anna explained quickly, “In trig! I totally forgot, and I’m so not prepared!”

“Okay,” Castiel said calmly, slowing her manic pace by measuring his own. He kept his voice even as he said, “You’ve basically already memorized the quadratic formula. You’re pretty good-”

“There he is!” Asmod’s voice echoed from behind Castiel. He tensed and his words cut off; Castiel kept walking with Anna, his footfalls picked up again. But it’s too late.

“Hey, fag!” Al yelled, running up in front and knocking the notebooks Castiel was holding out of his arms. Castiel looked down at them, scattered on the tiled floor. Al shoved his shoulders, yelling, “We’re talkin’ to ya!”

“Castiel!” Anna called in warning, but Asmod was already behind him, and only Castiel felt a painful kick in the back of his knee before he was hitting the floor. He had tried to catch himself as he toppled onto his scattered papers, but it only brought a sharp pang to his wrists. He stared at the ground, now only inches from him.

“Leave him alone!” Anna screamed. Castiel could feel the other students gather around them and heard their excited chatter.

“Awh, going to let your little sister fight for ya, huh?” Asmod taunted, giving Castiel’s stomach a kick. 

Castiel grunted, but held back the cough that wanted to escape. The kick pushed Castiel over to his back. He stayed on the ground, propped by his shaking elbow as he eyed down his assaulters.

“Come on, man,” Asmod pressured, “Teach this whimp a lesson!”

Al shoved Dean forward from the back of the gang. Dean stumbled forward until he was right in front of Castiel. Castiel looked at Dean’s clenched fist at his side, and then up to those wide, green eyes.

Green eyes sculpted into smoothed, tanned skin with defined cheekbones and brow. There was a sprinkle of freckles across his nose, a nose so straight and fair. His lips were full and pink, glistening on their own. And his hair was cut short, different shades of brown that framed a heart shaped jaw.

Castiel hated this boy, and he tried to translate all his rage through the deep eye contact between them. Dean only stared back at him. A soft tongue came out and licked those generous lips, opening slightly as if to say something.

“Do it, Dean!” came Al’s voice.

“What is going on here?” a male professor’s voice boomed down the hall. The other students start to scatter, but Dean didn’t look away - neither did Castiel.

A hand tugged at Dean’s arm and Castiel followed the movement. The arm belonged to Mr. Wyatt, the underclassmen’s English teacher.

“I knew you would be trouble,” Mr. Wyatt said to Dean, pulling him aside. He turned to Anna, “Anna, you got Castiel?”

“Yeah,” Anna replied as she knelt down to him. Castiel didn’t need her help, and Mr. Wyatt knew it. He caught the teacher’s eye, but he turned away again. Castiel began picking up his papers and Anna helped.

“Sorry, Dean,” Ash said when Mr. Wyatt began to bring him down the hall.

“See you later, Asstiel!” Asmod called.

“Hey! Get out of here! You want detention too?” Mr. Wyatt warned.

Asmod shrugged and walked along, gang following closely behind. They stepped on papers Castiel was reaching for as they passed. Al said lower, “Yeah, see you.”

Castiel shook his head, then looked over to his sister, keeping her head down and picking papers up quickly.

“Anna,” Castiel began quietly, touching her hand, “Don’t. Go to class.”

Anna sniffled. Castiel looked more closely at her face to see her crying. She shook her head angrily, tears spilling out as her voice shakes, “No!”

Castiel sighed and moved his hand. They both continued to pick up the papers. Castiel glanced up just in time to see Mr. Wyatt rounding the corner, Dean in tow.

Castiel got up, walked to class, and finished the school day.

Castiel stretched his wrists between periods and tried to be light with them. Still, the pain was numbly throbbing in his joints.

“Hey, Castiel,” Coach Singer said as the team broke from practice, “Come to my office.”

Castiel followed the coach, biting his lip as he entered the small office beside the gym.

“I heard about today in the hall. With the new kid,” Coach Singer started, sitting down in the chair behind his desk, “You okay?”

Castiel shrugged.

“Can’t have you getting hurt, boy,” he grimaced at Castiel, continuing, “You always make yourself such an easy target, Castiel.”

Castiel eyed the open door behind him to make sure his teammates weren’t there.

“Ash says that Dean boy wants to try out,” Coach Singer cuts into Castiel’s thoughts. Castiel’s eyes dart back to the coach. The teacher sighed, “I’m not going to stop him from trying out, but…”

An understanding smile grows on Coach Singer’s lips, “I’m not going to stop you from helping me with the try outs either.”

Castiel shook his head, replying quietly, “No, Coach Singer, I don’t think so.”

“Castiel,” Coach Singer continued, “You help me with tryouts every season. Why not throw the guy around a little too, huh?”

Castiel shook his head again, persisting, “No, it’s not worth the trouble. He’ll just not want to join the team because of me.”

“Castiel…”

“Can’t you get Raul to do it or something?” Castiel asked, nearly pleaded. He knew it was a weak move, but he couldn’t imagine trying to test the new boy’s bodily skill against his own without it leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

Coach Singer sighed heavily, “Okay.”

Castiel walked home. He did his homework. He read. He made dinner for the family. He helped Anna with her homework. He laid down on his bed and read some more… He set down his book and stared at the crumbling ceiling above.

Castiel needed to brace himself for the rest of the school year. Dean was with Asmod’s gang now, and he was Castiel’s first two periods. Really, Castiel was doomed.

###### 

Castiel entered the locker room after the last bell of the school day came. 

Two days had passed since the incident in the hall. Asmod and his gang had kept sufficiently under the radar, albeit their “daily ritual” at Castiel’s expense each morning. Dean came and went from the gang, quickly gaining his own popularity, known throughout the school as a charming bad boy, due to his preceding reputation and detention on his first day. So Dean made the rounds, hanging with Asmod and the like just as much as he was seen with about all his classmates; except Castiel. Dean and Castiel avoided each other in equal amounts, and Castiel was relieved.

The only brief coupling of the two had come in history class the day before.

“Mr. Winchester,” the teacher had called, “What was the capital of the Ottoman Empire?”

Castiel tuned in for a moment, not following the lecture before but instead looking out at the blue, clear sky through the window.

“Otto,” Dean had said offhandedly. A small giggle had rippled through the class. 

“Wrong,” the teacher replied coldly, “Just like your homework.”

The class oohed at that. Castiel’s ears burned.

“Mr. Kline?” the teacher called. Castiel didn’t dare turn to look at her, afraid of also seeing all the other classmates' eyes.

Castiel replied to the window, “Constantinople.”

“Thank you,” the teacher replied admiringly. Castiel cringed. Still, he was relieved. 

The relief carried to this day as well. He allowed himself to see a glimmer of hope that his circumstances would level out.

A glimmer that was quickly stomped out as he was changing into his wrestling warm-ups in his corner locker away from the other teammates when the locker room door opened again. Castiel was stepping into his sweats as he heard a locker door open a few down from his own.

Castiel looked up and saw Dean Winchester taking off his shirt. He noticed bruises on the boy’s tan arms and quickly looked away. Castiel pulled on his jacket, minding his own business. He sat down on the bench and trained his eyes on his sneakers as he slipped into them. 

He was about to start tying into his shoes when he noticed an absence of noise from Dean’s locker. Daringly, he looked over. 

Dean was sitting down on the bench, eyes trailing over Castiel’s body. His eyes met Castiel’s and a surprised brow shot up once their eyes met. He looked guilty for a moment, Castiel thought. It confused him. Dean opened his mouth, then paused; a toothy, handsome smile spread easily and he said, “Hey.”

Castiel turned away, continuing to tie his shoes to save face; his pulse was pounding.

“You’re Castiel, right?” Dean continued. Castiel didn’t respond, tying the other shoe. Dean asked, “You don’t talk much, huh?”

“What gave it away?” Castiel spat back quickly, surprising himself at having replied.

Dean was quiet for a moment before he continued, “Look, I’m just trying to-”

“Yeah, well don’t,” Castiel interrupted, closing his locker door with a bang.

Castiel grabbed his gym bag and got up. He walked around to the other side of the bench, as Ash approached Dean, saying, “Don’t waste your breath on this guy.” 

Castiel walked past them, avoiding looking at anyone as he rounded the corner and brushed past Ash. Castiel was going into the gym as he heard Ash ask Dean, “Hey, we’re all going to Cus’s Place after practice. You in?”

Castiel didn’t hear his reply, entering the gym. He stood in the back of the rest of the team that was nearer the mats.

The rest of the boys filtered in - including Ash with Dean - and soon Coach Singer entered.

“Okay, settle down,” he began, standing on the other side of the ringed pads, “We have a new teammate, which you’ve already met so we can skip all that, ‘kay?”

Coach Singer claps his hands together and begins walking in front of them, saying, “Alright fellas, we’re going to start with a dynamic warm up. Do RDLs first, so remember back straight. Nice and slow and controlled…” 

With a limberness of a person who’d mastered the exercise, Coach Singer demonstrated as he instructed, “Touch the floor. Don’t rush to get to the floor. And then shift. Control your body.”

Coach Singer stands back up straight turns to the team, “Alright? We’re going to go about eight to ten yards. Here we go.”

The boys had spread out into four columns with a person in the back of each one. The first row reached the other end and Castiel went with the other three. Coach Singer was instructing and encouraging everyone as they went. Castiel reached the end and waited for the row to reach the other end before going himself. His eyes skimmed over Dean’s performance in the first row and it made Castiel wonder if Dean had done this before. His movements were tight and controlled, an accomplishment that some veteran team members were still trying to achieve.

Five different drills like this and Coach Singer called for a break. Castiel wished he hadn’t; he wasn’t tired and for the first time in a while he wished practice would be over. 

But then the drills began. Coach Singer called, “Okay, let’s figure out Dean’s position.”

The guys groaned, but all still chatted excitedly as they took off the warmers to be in their uniform. Castiel methodically put his other clothes in his gym bag, trying to stay under the radar and take his time.

“Ash, come on, show neutral to Dean,” Coach Singer called. Castiel sighed, but still stuck to the back, keeping his head low as he watched.

Ash and Dean faced one another. Coach Singer gave Dean only a couple pointers on his stance while the green eyes stayed focused and attentive, adjusting as Coach instructed.

“Let’s go for a round, alright?” Coach Singer said, backing up. Both boys nodded. Coach Singer blew his whistle and the boys collided. Dean got the upper hand, throwing Ash down. He pinned his shoulders and moved over Ash to keep down his scrambling legs.

Coach Singer’s whistle blew again, both boys got up. Coach called, “Okay, good! Alright, Raul, let’s do top.”

Castiel watched as Coach Singer showed Dean how he’d start with his hands and knees on the mat as Raul came from behind and held him in referee’s position. Coach Singer called for another round; Dean tried to reach over, but Raul moved his leg away and pinned Dean down. 

Coach Singer blew his whistle, “No worries, shake it off. Luther, you’re up.”

Dean sat back with the rest of the team, closer to the front. Luther and Raul matched, but Castiel wasn’t interested anymore. He was looking at the wood panels of the gym, the shine of the circles on the matte black wrestling pads. 

Coach called all different pairs so that everybody matched each in each position. He sometimes paused them and explained something to everybody. Castiel didn’t care, didn’t listen; the same thing happened at every practice, and he knew that he’d be called for his drills the end.

“Okay Dean, you ready to try top?” Coach Singer called as two boys left the mat. Dean stood and came to the front. Coach Singer also called for Ash. Ash got up with a long groan, shaking his head.

Castiel watched from the side as Coach Singer showed Dean where to put his arms and hands as he knelt over Ash. The whistle blew, the match began, but was quickly over as Ash was unable to switch. Dean, to his credit, held tight and was able to maneuver away from Ash’s reach. 

“Good job, Dean! Ash, you need to work on reach,” Ash got up, high fived Dean, but seemed a little visibly shaken as he sat back down with the team. Coach Singer turned to Dean, asking, “Glean anything, boy?”

“Um,” Dean shrugged, “Top is best?”

“Oh?” Coach Singer cocked a brow.

“Yeah, I mean,” Dean continued as if it were a fact, “Top has all the control.”

“Hm, interesting outlook,” Coach Singer said with a knowing smile. He turned towards the other team, “Castiel. Why don’t you bottom?”

Castiel’s air stuck in his lungs at hearing his name. He couldn’t protest the coach, not in front of everybody. Castiel slowly got to his feet and walked up to the mat, staring down the ground as he stood next to Dean.

“Okay, get into referee's position,” Coach instructed with an encouraging clap. Castiel couldn’t stall any longer; he got down on all fours. He felt Dean coming up behind him.

“Dean, remember, around his waist. Lower, here,” Coach Singer was kneeling and instructing Dean where specifically to hold. Castiel’s mind was struggling to keep clear, but it was sobering to have Coach Singer right next to them as he felt Dean’s skin against his. 

“Yes, left on left. Forearm, that’s right,” Coach Singer finished and then stood up, asking, “Okay, now try to maintain control. Got it?”

“Got it,” Dean said from behind Castiel, his chin pressing against the top of Castiel’s back. 

“Alright,” Coach Singer affirmed, stepping back.

“Ready, and,” Coach Singer’s whistle blows. At the end of the whistle call, Castiel could feel Dean’s grip tightened, but it was no use. Castiel smoothly broke his arm grip with a twist and sharp pull, turned around and reached with a lunge. He caught Dean’s leg between his armpit as Dean tried to get it away, allowing Castiel to pin Dean’s arm and leg with two moves. Castiel tried the switch. He managed to get out from under Dean’s chest, but Dean hooked his arm and grabbed Castiel’s ankle. Dean performed a faux reswitch. Castiel’s shock at Dean instinctually reswitch wasn’t enough to break his concentration. Dean, although taller, was far weaker than Castiel. He quickly crowded Dean, pushing into the space between his shoulders and next to his head. It was enough to get out of Dean’s grip. The bottom half of Dean’s body was twisted towards the ground, and Castiel flipped him all the way. He pinned Dean’s shoulders with his arm, holding down Dean’s hands with the other, and locking his legs with Castiel’s. Dean tried to get up but Castiel’s grip was strong and skilled. Dean’s chest and shoulders met the ground for the silent countdown, despite Dean’s struggles. The whistle called from Coach Singer, marking the end of the match.

Castiel relaxed and quickly hopped off of Dean’s back. He started to see Dean turn around with a groan, and Castiel looked away. Still, he extended his hand. A pause, and then he felt a hand grab on to his. Castiel pulled and helped Dean to his feet.

“Great try,” Coach Singer said, “But see? Bottom can quickly become an advantage.”

Dean nodded. Coach Singer patted him on the back and Dean went to sit with the rest of the team. Castiel made to move too, but Coach Singer stopped him, “No, Castiel you’re top. Raul, we need to go over your bottom set for next week.”

Raul comes up to the mat. Coach said to him, “Let’s go from yesterday’s set. Remember, shoulders as far from the ground as you can. Like a push up, right?”

Raul nodded and got on all fours. Castiel gets into position behind him. As usual, Coach Singer didn’t have instructions for Castiel. Coach Singer readied them and then the whistle blew. Raul switched, and Castiel reswitched. He felt Raul try to crowd him - just as Castiel had done to Dean - but Castiel sweeps under Raul with his leg, flipping him over with a push of his hips. Raul was trying to push his hips up to push out of Castiel grip like Coach Singer had told him, but Castiel has Raul’s back on the mat. He’s pinned, and Coach Singer calls it.

Castiel released the pressure, and Raul pushed him off before Castiel could get up. Coach Singer gave Raul some advice about the play that had just happened. Castiel patiently stayed on the mat, already knowing what was coming next. Just so, Coach Singer called up Drex to match Castiel with neutral position.

Just like at the end of every practice, the neutral match against Castiel was the last of the day. And, like every time, Castiel won.

Coach Singer instructed the winddown stretches and then gathered the team together. He said: “Next Saturday is the tournament, I expect us all to be there. Let’s bring the hustle to practice on Monday! See you then.”

Another clap and the team broke. Castiel was the first to get to the door, but he still heard Coach Singer say, “Dean, let’s talk in my office for a minute.”

Castiel changed at lightning speed as the other boys hit the showers, wanting to leave before Dean got back from talking with Coach Singer. And he accomplished that; he exited the locker room and nearly smiled with thought of surviving.

“Castiel!” Coach Singer’s voice came through from his open office, right near the doors to the boy’s locker room, “Come here real quick.”

Castiel’s heart sank. He braced himself and entered Coach Singer’s office. Dean was already standing in front of his desk, turned to the door to catch Castiel’s eyes as he entered. Castiel averted the look, turning to Coach Singer and asking, “You wanted to see me?”

“I was talking to Dean about next week’s tournament,” Coach Singer started, “I’m thinking of putting him in, but he still needs a lot of practice.”

Castiel’s brows raised as a response. It was uncommon to have a new teammate enter tournaments after the season had begun, and even a month of practice was usually considered too soon.

Coach Singer’s brows raised as a counter, “He’s got some raw talent, don’t you think?”

Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes on him. He looked to the ground and shrugged passively, “I guess.”

“So you’ll help me train him this Friday and next?” Coach Singer concluded.

Castiel’s eyes jumped to Coach Singer with the utmost alarm. Castiel mind didn’t quite understand what he was asking, “You mean like…?”

“Well, like you did with Raul when he first started,” Coach Singer continued, “Would you be able to stay after for a couple hours? Dean’s already agreed to put in the time.”

Castiel was speechless. Sure, he always was fine with helping the coach, but something about the idea of helping Dean scared him deeply.

Coach Singer beckoned, “Well?”

Castiel realized he had been silent for too long. He didn’t want to argue or beg to Coach Singer, especially in front of Dean. He pointed his eyes to the corner, gave a defeated sigh and replied, “Fine.”

Coach Singer seemed pleased and excused the two boys. As they exited, Dean paused at the closed door and turned to Castiel, saying, “Hey, thanks for-”

But Castiel was already walking down the hallway. When he pushed through the double doors and heard them clatter behind him, he started to sprint. He didn’t stop until he was home, face down on his pillow and kicking himself for the day. 

He laid there until Samand came whining, then he cooked dinner. Anna came to find him and sat down with her chemistry book and notepad. They were talking about her homework when she groaned, “Lab starts tomorrow and I’m so nervous! What if I have to dissect a cow heart or something?”

Castiel smirked, “It’s chemistry, Anna, not biology. You’ll probably light some stuff on fire.”

Anna laughed, “Well, hopefully.”

She was quiet for a moment, finishing a sentence for an essay question. She sat her pencil down and looked into the distance, saying offhandedly, “That Dean kid is in my class.”

Castiel hid his surprise by taking a quick look at his sister, adding quietly, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Anna shook her head and looked down at her book, “But I thought he was in your grade.”

Castiel shrugged, “I guess he is.”

“So he must have to repeat the course…” Anna was thoughtful, “He doesn’t seem particularly bright.”

Castiel suffocated a snort of laughter. He took a deep breath. He felt Anna’s eyes on him as she continued, “I heard he joined the wrestling team… Have you talked to him?”

Castiel put down his pencil and confronted his sister, “Dean this, Dean that. Are you obsessed with him or something?”

Anna blushed furiously and defended, “No! I’m just curious! I heard something really sad about him today…”

Castiel was disappointed, “Joining in on gossip?”

Anna shook her head, “I can’t help if other people want to tell me things! They think it’s interesting, and in this case it is.”

“Okay, let’s hear it then,” Castiel said, leaning back with a temper, “What’s so interesting?”

Anna took a deep breath, “I’m not going to tell you.”

Castiel groaned and rubbed at his temple. He really didn’t care at this point. Or, rather, he really didn’t _want_ to care.

“His dad came to Sonny’s,” Anna began quietly after a short silence. Castiel looked up at her, she continued with a sigh, “Ash told Robin that he saw Dean and his dad talking. His dad came to tell Dean that he was leaving him at Sonny’s. Then he was just… gone.”

Anna’s face twisted up in empathy as she stared at the wall. She took a quivering breath and said, “Isn’t that so tragic?”

Castiel looked at his sister for a moment before looking back down at her chemistry homework. He thought about Dean - a junior like himself - being in sophomore chemistry class. He wondered if these rumors were true, but shook himself of that thought. Instead he blinked at the assignment at hand and merely said to Anna, “It’s only a rumor. Anyway, you should worry about your homework.”

Anna sighed with a pout, “Oh, Castiel, you’re so dull.”

Castiel gave her a warning glance. She smirked in the face of danger, adding, “But you’re so damn smart. I’d be lost in class without you.”

Castiel gave her an appreciative smile, but chastised her, “You shouldn’t swear.”

“Pff,” She shrugged, looking down at the paper and poised her pencil as she said as a sad fact, “Why? Dad’s not here.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed, a frown pulling at his lips. He looked back down at her homework too, “Yeah, he’s not.” 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Anna added quietly.

Castiel peeked up and caught Anna’s eye. She smiled; he smiled back.

She tacked on quickly: “Can you edit my essay for tomorrow’s English class too?”

Castiel groaned teasingly.

###### 

Friday’s arrival was a blessing and a curse. A reprieve from the stressful hell of daily high school routine. However, Friday also promised for a minefield of dreadful home life with endless chores.

Life went on, though.

Castiel made his way to his locker in the hall. He was about to change his books for the day and go have lunch on the field by himself. But first he was supposed to meet Anna. She had promised to meet him here around this time so he could return her essay. 

On his way to his locker, he saw Anna approaching from the other end of the hall. She was walking and talking with someone. Walking and laughing, rather, with Dean.

Castiel sucked in a breath and hurried to his locker, flying through the combination and throwing it open to hide his face against the approaching couple.

He heard Dean’s voice over the other chatter of the passing students in the hall. There was a friendly tone in it, and it made Castiel highly suspicious. Still, he fiddled around in his locker. Then, the voices disappeared in the crowd. He felt a tap on his shoulder. Castielturned to Anna; she was alone.

“Hey,” she greeted with a broad smile, “Thanks for waiting. Do you have that essay? I have to hurry to class.”

Castiel took it out of his bag and handed it to her wordlessly. She took it out of his hand but stayed a while.

He looked over to her, “What?”

“What?”

Castiel stared her down for another beat and then rolled his eyes, actually changing his books out now as he supplied: “I just saw you with Dean, is all.”

Anna scoffed, “Oh, you did?”

Castiel’s brow furrowed at his books. Anna was getting mad, “What? Am I not allowed to talk to people now?”

“I didn’t say that,” Castiel defended quietly. Anna deflated, replying, “He was my lab partner, that’s all. He’s pretty nice, actually.”

Castiel didn’t say anything. He closed his locker and said his goodbye to Anna.

At lunch, Castiel looked at the sky. But unlike most days, his mind was cluttered with pessimistic scenarios of the coming practice with Dean and Coach Singer. He only hoped it wouldn’t be as embarrassing as he was imagining. Castiel had mastered the art of keeping his expectations low, but it couldn’t qualm all his anxieties.

“Asstiel!” a miserably familiar voice called. Castiel tensed, waiting for the inevitable storm. Asmod, Al, and Ash walked up to him.

“Miss us?” Asmod asked. Castiel began gathering his things.

“Not so fast,” Al hissed, kicking Castiel’s shoulder with his foot. Castiel’s back hit the chain link fence that he had been sitting nearby. 

Castiel took a deep breath and met Asmod’s eyes, “What do you want?”

“Oh, he talks!” Al cackled, making Ash laugh. Castiel kept his eyes on Asmod, and Asmod on him. Asmod sneered, “Don’t act stupid, you fucking faggot. I told you over a week to write my paper. It’s due next period. Cough it up.”

Castiel didn’t reply. He hadn’t done Asmod’s stupid homework, hadn’t even tried. This had been the instigation of their fight that had gotten Castiel in trouble a couple weeks ago. Castiel remembered it well, but it hadn’t motivated to follow Asmod’s orders. He didn’t care anymore, and wasn’t afraid of anything Asmod would to him. 

“I said cough it up!” Asmod yelled.

Castiel shook his head, “Fuck you.”

Asmod’s sneer became a snarl, “I’m gonna kill you, you hear me?”

Castiel remained silent, breathing heavily. 

Asmod held Castiel’s eyes for a moment longer, threatening further, “Don’t think this is over.”

He motioned to the other two and they fall back. Al gave Cas’s food a kick and laughed to himself. Castiel watched until they had left the field, then he quickly collected his items and went to sit in class until lunch ended. He clenched and unclenched his hands the entire time, trying to control the violent shaking.

There was still a small tremor by the time the last bell of the day rang. Castiel was glad to not be going home right away, but not very excited for the activity that was about to begin. 

Castiel was more than grateful, and a little surprised, not to find Dean in the locker room. He changed methodically. When he entered the gym in his uniform and warm up bottoms, he was even more surprised to find Dean and Coach Singer already there. They turned to him as he entered. Coach Singer greeted him, “Ah, there you are. Come on, let’s hustle. It’s Friday, ain’t it?”

Castiel looked to the side instead of rolling his eyes. Coach Singer bringing up the fact it was Friday was ridiculous, since this had been the coach’s hairbrained scheme anyway. Castiel agreed though, the sooner they started the sooner it would be over. He took off his sweats and headed over to Dean.

Coach Singer had them doing warm up exercises. Since it was just the two of them, the process was streamlined and they were soon on the mats.

Coach Singer instructed for a neutral beginning. Dean and Catiel’s eyes locked as they turned to face each other, crouching into position. The whistle blew and Castiel let Dean get the upper. He made sure to keep his shoulders as far back from the mat as possible by keeping himself on a pyramid pose. Although Dean had top position, Castiel knew where the match would go. He switched, Dean tried his own reswitch, and Castiel crowded him again, pinning him.

The whistle blew. Castiel rolled off Dean and Coach Singer approached, “Okay, this is how the rounds will go in tournaments, Dean. That’s how long a match can be, then the next match is dependent on this outcome. But first, let’s do a play-by.”

Coach Singer instructed Castiel to get on bottom and Dean on top; the whistle blew and as Castiel switched Coach Singer blew the whistle. He came over and told Dean about what Castiel was doing and how the maneuver was accomplished. As he talked about where the hand would land, Castiel instinctually helped by putting his hand on Dean as Coach Singer went through the explanation.

Coach Singer taught Dean how to reswitch properly, and also how to crowd. Castiel helped by demonstrating and then stopping at Coach Singer’s call. Then, Coach told Castiel to top and Dean to get on the bottom. As they got into position, Coach explained to Dean that this was how the next match between the two of them would go if in a tournament. The winner of this one would either inform the winner of the round or for one more match.

The whistle blew. Castiel held on to Dean and moved his leg away from the reach. But Dean lunged again, getting enough room on Castiel’s grip to grab his leg. He performed the switch, but Castiel reswitched. Dean tried to crowd him, but Castiel pushed his hips up into Dean’s. He took top again and pinned Dean.

Castiel pretended not to hear Dean’s grunts during these moves. Castiel lost identity with his opponent when he was wrestling them. Although this let Castiel begin to dissociate from Dean, it didn’t help that the boy was vocal.

Coach Singer made them repeat Dean’s bottom position until he got crowding down. Dean was able to slip above Castiel and lock him down. He pinned Castiel with his stomach to the mat. Coach Singer blew his whistle, “Yes! Great work!”

Coach Singer praised them both as they untangled. Dean offered Castiel his hand. Castiel bit his lip and took the hand without looking up at the boy’s face.

Castiel and Dean ended with stretches side by side. Again, the exercises went by steadily.

“Alright, you kids go home. Great work, thanks for coming in. I’ll see you both Monday,” Coach Singer said with a wave.

Castiel nodded to the coach before grabbing his gym bag and making his way to the locker room.

He had started stepping out of his uniform when Dean walked in, sitting at the same locker he had yesterday. Castiel wondered why he was using this particular locker, since it wasn’t his locker for gym. He shook the thought out of his head, condemning himself from thinking of Dean at all.

Castiel kept to himself and was silently slipping into his jeans when he heard Dean’s voice, “Thanks for helping.”

Castiel couldn’t help as he looked over. Dean was facing his own locker, shirt off. Castiel managed to keep his curious eyes away from the bruises on Dean’s arms. He continued, “That’s what I was going to say before.”

Castiel looked away as he thought he saw Dean start to turn to him.

“Okay,” Castiel choked out.

“Man, I just can’t figure out why you don’t like me,” Dean chuckled. 

Castiel couldn’t answer that. He remembered Dean standing over him that day in the hall, but it’s not as if he had done what Asmod had wanted. If anything, he had merely taken the fall for Asmod and his gang. And it wasn’t like Castiel had stood up for Dean either. However, that proved to Castiel again that he was a burden to anyone who touched his life. Castiel was resolved; it was better for everyone if Dean stayed away.

“Just do yourself a favor and stop talking to me,” Castiel finally said, tugging his shirt and hoodie over his head.

“What the hell is that even supposed to mean?” Dean scoffed.

Castiel looked over with a dull expression and met Dean’s glare. He said clearly, “Leave me alone.”

He closed his locker, got up, and left. His feet pounded against the pavement as he walked home, trying to keep his mind from reeling out of control. He hated that he was so emotional, that he’d let the day get to him so badly.

Castiel didn’t even notice the car that had crept up behind him before a loud, long honk from it. Castiel turned and was able to dive off the shoulder of the road as a car skimmed him at a wickedly fast speed. Castiel’s breath was wild. The car screeched to a stop. Castiel’s back was against the road’s guardrail as he watched Asmod, Al, and Ash get out of the car. 

Castiel immediately turned and jumped over the guardrail and into the patch of trees down the decline. He could hear Al call: “Oh, think you can run and hide, eh Asstiel?”

The three boys laughed and Castiel could hear their footsteps approaching. He ran to the edge of the trees, where a slope ran down to the river.

A hand grabbed at the back of Castiel’s backpack. Al spun Castiel around and kneed him in the groin. Castiel lost his breath as he fell to his knees. There was no pause; Al took Castiel’s arm and heaved him to his feet.

“You know, I got in a lot of trouble today for not having that paper,” Asmod growled cooly. He was tossing a small rock in one hand, leaning against a tree nearby. He continued, sneering as he did at Castiel, “How do you think that makes me feel?”

Castiel just stared at him. Asmod snarled, “How do you think it makes me feel?!”

Asmod threw that rock at Castiel and it impacted at his hairline. Castiel hissed with pain but endured it. He felt a trickle of blood running down his forehead and drip down his brow. Asmod approached him, “How do you think it makes me feel that I’m in trouble because some _nobody_ like you can’t follow a simple instruction?”

Castiel takes a deep breath.

“You know what I do with nobodies like you, huh?” Asmod started before he was lunging with his fist towards Castiel. Castiel easily dodged him. Asmod screams, “Get him!”

Castiel turned to run, but Al regained his grip on one arm as Ash stumbled around to hold his other. Then, Asmod was in his face, and his fist connected with Castiel’s right eye. He could feel the skin break as much as he could hear it.

“Woo!” Asmod called with exhilaration and joy.

“Nice,” Al snickered.

“So, Asstiel,” Asmod said to him as if talking to a child, “You’re going to write the essay before Monday, right?”

Castiel was looking at the grass; he wouldn’t answer. He didn’t care what Asmod would do to him. He didn’t _care_.

Asmod smacked him on the right cheek a couple of times, “Right?!”

Castiel’s eyes came up to bore into Asmod’s. He took a deep breath, and spit in Asmod’s face.

A growl ripped out of Asmod; he stumbled back, wiping the spit from his face with a slur. He looked down at his hand, then back up at Castiel. His eyes were black; he took out a switchblade knife from his pocket, pulling out the blade as he began to bellow, “You little-!”

“Hey!” A voice came from behind the group. Asmod looked behind him just as his face connected with a fist. Asmod stuttered backwards and faced the person’s whom’s fist broke open his nose.

“Dean!” Ash called with aghast. Even Castiel was surprised to see Dean.

“What the hell are you doing?” Asmod spat at Dean, cupping his bloody nose.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Dean replied. Asmod smiled sickly, “Taking out the trash.”

“I don’t think so,” Dean got in between Asmod and Castiel, still being held by Ash and Al. Castiel could feel Ash shaking, though.

“You don’t know anything, new kid,” Asmod sneered, “Get out of here.”

“How about you go fuck yourself?” Dean asked.

Asmod smiled and nodded. Al lunged at Dean as Asmod charged him. Dean ducked and threw Al’s stumbling body over his head. Al landed on his back with a groan. Asmod continued to charge, knife first. The knife was coming right at Dean’s chest.

“Look out!” Castiel heard himself call, breaking out of Ash’s weakened grip. But Dean was waiting; waiting for Asmod to get close enough. He dodged the knife by grabbing Asmod’s hand and pulling him towards him. Swiftly, he put his back to Asmod’s arm and brought his hand up underneath Asmod’s elbow. Dean pushed up with force. There was a pop, the knife dropped, and Asmod screamed. 

Asmod crumbled to his knees, crying and whimpering as he nursed his contorted arm.

Dean picked up the knife from the ground. Asmod watched with horror as Dean walked over to a larger rock, steadied the handle on the edge with his foot, and then jumped and stomped on the edge of the blade. The knife shattered in two.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Asmod screamed. He huffs, eyes wild, “He’s trash!”

“The dude literally did _nothing_ , okay?” Dean whipped around, gesturing towards Castiel behind him. Castiel couldn’t understand why Dean was doing this either. He watched and listened intently. Dean’s shoulders raised and lowered before he continued, “Going to fuck up an innocent person with a dollar store knife for something stupid? Sounds pretty twisted to me.”

Al shook his head, getting back to his feet, “Thought you were cooler than all that, Dean.”

“Guess you thought wrong.”

“Suppose all those things they say about you and that cop are just bullshit then,” Al tried to snarl. 

Dean didn’t flinch, “Oh, no they’re real, alright. So don’t think you should be messing with me.”

Dean stared down Al. Al held the gaze until he whipped away, helping Asmod to his feet. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Asmod demanded. Asmod gave Castiel one last look before the gang trekked up to the road, back to the car.

Dean watched them leave. Castiel turned to find his backpack that had been ripped off him by Al. He sighed when he found it, realizing the strap had broken in the struggle. A numb surprise came next as a drop of blood drips onto the backpack. He wiped at the blood over his eye as Dean asked from behind him, “You still bleeding?”

Castiel got up but kept his back to Dean as he merely said, “I told you to leave me alone.”

Dean laughed sarcastically, “Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!”

Castiel did turn around to Dean at that, met with a gaze that was equally as fiery as his own. Dean broke the eye contact first, sighing and shaking his head. He gave Castiel a once over and walked towards him. He grabbed Castiel’s wrist and kept walking, saying, “Come with me.”

Dean tried to walk along, but Castiel buried his heels into the ground and Dean stopped when the light tug on Castiel’s arm wouldn’t work. Dean turned back to Castiel, still holding his wrist as he persisted, “Come _on_.”

Castiel shook his head like a child; he wasn’t going anywhere. A wetness seeped into his eye and it stung. He broke his angry concentration to wipe at it with his other hand absently. He heard Dean sighed and felt him let go of his wrist. Then, Dean’s was in his personal space. Castiel’s breath caught as he looked up at Dean with the other eye that was getting more swollen and sensitive from Asmod’s punch.

Dean pulled away Castiel’s hand that was rubbing at his eye with the blood dripping in it. Dean tsks. Castiel’s eyes follow Dean’s tongue as it snakes out to lick at his thumb. Castiel was surprised when that thumb landed above his own eyelid, wiping back some of the blood dripping there.

“Shit, that’s a lot of blood,” Dean commented. He looked into Castiel’s eyes, “Are you feeling alright?”

Castiel’s breath found him again and he pushed Dean’s hand away, “I’m fine.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, not moving away. Castiel looked back up to catch Dean’s eyes. Dean turned again and, without pulling at his arm, said, “Come on.”

“Why?” Castiel asked stubbornly.

“Just come on,” Dean groaned, “Jesus, don’t make me twist your arm or anything.”

Castiel bit his lip; he could tell that Dean had lost his patience. Or perhaps not. Dean took a steadying breath and added, “Please?”

Castiel admitted the defeat, ducking his head as he started to walk along the tree line with Dean. He kept rubbing at his eye that had blood dripping into it, making it difficult to see properly. But Castiel walked along, holding his broken backpack by the top handle.

“Lemme carry that,” Dean said as Castiel could feel the backpack already being lifted from his hand. Castiel glanced over to see Dean shrug it onto his other shoulder that wasn’t carrying his own pack. Castiel stole that moment to examine Dean. He was looking ahead, his body in front of the canopy and sun. The rays of light through the leaves highlighted the taller boy’s silhouette. Castiel found himself blushing, looking forward once more.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Castiel’s resolved disdain for Dean had begun to wane, and he found himself remorseful of all the rude ways he’d treated Dean. At the end of it all, Castiel just had the problem with himself. He hadn’t deserved Dean’s help and his continued kindness.

“Here,” Dean said, pulling back some branches. Past the trees was the slope that met the river. But this area was cleared from brush and only had voluptuous grass, cradled by the higher plants on either side, leading down to the muddy bank.

Castiel walked past Dean and the trees to carefully tread on to the partially shaded, mostly sunny grass. Dean walked behind him, setting down Castiel’s bag next to his feet.

“I’ll be right back,” Dean promised, walking to the bank. Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but Dean was already traversing the river to the other side, hopping precariously from one large, slick rock to the next. 

Castiel looked around, wondering if he’d be able to just walk away now. Instead, he sat down and waited. Castiel first gingerly patted at his head injured. He hissed at the sting of the wound. He reverted to just blindly plucking at the grass and twisting at the blades between his fingers.

A few minutes later, and Castiel looked up as Dean began to walk back over the rocks. His backpack was still on his shoulders, and Castiel scooted over anxiously as Dean walked back up the slope. He sat down at Castiel’s side with a grunt, pulling his backpack to his front.

Opening the pack, Dean handed Castiel a canteen first. 

“Drink some water,” Dean instructed. Castiel wordlessly took it from Dean and drank from it. He heard Dean rifling through his backpack. Castiel set the canteen aside and Dean handed him next a bag of frozen peas. Castiel hesitated in taking this item, eyeing Dean from the side.

“For your eye,” Dean said, gesturing to the swollen side of Castiel’s face. Castiel gingerly took it from Dean and lifted it to that side, gritting at the initial pain. He hadn’t realized the pain had been burning until he’d felt the cold contrast of the bag of peas.

Castiel heard some paper ripping and he looked over as Dean scooted closer to him. Castiel’s muscles froze as Dean reached forward. He felt something cold and wet against his forehead. Dean wasn’t too close, focusing on Castiel’s forehead as he tried wiping at the blood.

“I can do it,” Castiel said, reaching up to take the sanitary wipe from Dean’s hand. Castiel took a glance at the partly used wipe before patting at his forehead. He looked out at the glimmering water and asked, “How did you get all this stuff anyway?”

“Sonny’s is just right over there,” Dean replied, “I come here all the time.”

Castiel’s eyes fluttered, not knowing how to feel about being in a spot Dean frequented. Then, he felt the boy’s hand against his that was holding the wipe, “You’re not even getting it. Let me.”

Dean took the wipe back from Castiel. Dean sighed with aggravation as he started to wipe at the mostly dried blood. Castiel flinched, thinking that Dean was getting mad at him. But then Dean was backing up, saying, “This is such a weird angle. Here, lay back.”

Castiel started to lie down, but Dean interrupted him, “No, I meant over here.”

Castiel looked over to Dean and then down to Dean’s lap. His head buzzed with hesitation, and he bit his lip, not moving.

Dean sighed again, “Look, don’t make it weird, okay?”

Castiel didn’t look at Dean’s face, but he did as Dean asked. Still holding the bag of peas to his other eye, Castiel scooted sideways and laid down, gently setting his head against Dean’s thigh. He was still so suspicious of Dean’s motives, but he decided not to question him further.

Dean wiped away the rest of the blood, saying thoughtfully, “The cut is pretty shallow. Head injuries always seem really bad because they bleed the most. Close your eye.”

Castiel closed his eyes and felt Dean lightly wipe at the crust there. 

Castiel didn’t know how to reply. He opened his eyes with hesitation when he felt Dean move to another area. Dean put the used wipe in his backpack and took out a bandage. Castiel tried not looking up at him, tried not to stare at that face that he’d been avoiding so wholeheartedly. A face that had saved Castiel’s ass. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by the realization that he had been completely ungrateful towards Dean.

Castiel’s eye darted over to the river bank. Dean was opening a bandage when Castiel whispered, “Thank you, Dean.”

Castiel heard and felt Dean’s movements pause. Castiel gulped and continued, “And I’m sorry.”

A small huff came out of Dean; he began to apply the bandage as he replied, “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“Asmod hates you now and it’s all because of me,” Castiel’s face contorted, “That’s why you shouldn’t have helped… Nobody will like you if you’re with me.”

Dean’s breath was silent, his hands faint as they nursed Castiel’s wound carefully. But Dean’s voice was anything but gentle, even tempting on angry, as he said, “I don’t care about that.”

“You will,” Castiel said with surety, “Especially once Ash tells everyone about what you did.”

“I don’t think they’re going to tell anyone shit.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because they lost,” Dean said triumphantly. Castiel grimaced. He hoped that Dean was right, but he also knew Ash’s tongue had no fidelity.

“Just so,” Castiel continued quietly, “You should leave me alone. For your own good.”

“No,” Dean said. Castiel’s eye leapt to his face. Dean was in front of the canopy overhead, his brow furrowed in concentration as he continued to deftly nurse Castiel’s wound.

“Why?” Castiel asked with emotion, “Why help me so much? You don’t know me, why everyone hates me…”

Dean was quiet, and Castiel looked off to the river again. Perhaps this was some grand joke that Castiel was left out on. Maybe Dean would spread an awful rumor about him on Monday or something.

Dean moved his hand away from Castiel’s face, bandage secured. His hand lightly brushed against Castiel’s hair as Dean moved it to set beside himself. Castiel dared to look up once more, seeing that Dean was now the one looking off at the river. 

“You remind me of someone,” Dean said, “My little brother, Sammy. Not like I think of you as a brother, it’s just… he had these guys on his back all the time at school. It was really hard for him for awhile.” 

Castiel was silent. His next words were like air as he couldn’t help asking, “Do you miss your brother?”

Dean looked back down at Castiel with surprise. Castiel held the gaze. Dean swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. A lot.”

Castiel imagined if he was taken away from any of his siblings. He felt even more dreadful about his behavior to Dean before. Castiel sat up and moved off of Dean, thinking that he’d burdened him enough.

“You should take it easy,” Dean advised. Castiel looked over, but laid back down into the grass beside Dean.

“Okay,” Castiel replied as his head rested on the soft grass. 

There was a comfortable silence that fell between the two. Castiel wondered if he would ever be a good conversationalist, biting his lip and watching the sun filter in through the leaves above, not knowing what to say next.

“I guess I just don’t get why you let them walk all over you like that,” Dean said suddenly. 

Castiel’s exposed, clean eye trailed over to Dean. He saw the other boy looking off in the distance, wearing a twisted expression. He took a deep breath and continued, “You’re way stronger than them. Why not fight back?”

Dean looked over to Castiel and their eyes met again. Castiel slowly looked back at the trees above, thinking about his answer. A lot of people had asked him similar questions - his family, teachers, even Cus at the diner - but he’d never been able to put it into words. Or, rather, he never thought anybody would understand. And then when he had fought back at Asmod, Castiel had been the one that had gotten in trouble. Still, the memory of hitting Asmod made his heart ache.

Perhaps Dean would get it. Castiel let the frown play on his lips as he said to the trees above, “I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

Another pause and then Castiel heard Dean chuckle. Castiel looked back over, a little offended, very confused, wondering what was so funny about what he’d said. Dean shook his head, “Man, you really are like Sammy…”

Castiel’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t speak to this Sammy’s character, but Castiel did wonder why he had been bullied. Castiel knew his own reasons all too well...

Castiel heard Dean clearing his throat, asking, “Anna’s your sister, right?”

Castiel’s eyes skimmed back over to Dean. He replied cautiously, “Yeah…”

“I have a class with her.”

“She told me,” Castiel snapped his mouth shut. He didn’t want to talk about Anna without her there.

“Oh, she did?” Dean chuckled. Castiel’s dread was matched only by his mesmerization at hearing Dean laugh. But the dread won over as Dean added, “She’s pretty cute.”

Castiel flushed as Dean looked over to him, lightly biting his lower lip. Castiel looked away for a moment as he shrugged, “I guess.”

He pressed the peas harder against his eye, trying to fight back the frustration swelling in his mind. He heard Dean sigh, “But she’s pretty young, y’know.”

Castiel bit his lip, not expecting the relief that swept through him. To take them off track, Castiel observed, “You _are_ in the sophomore class.”

Castiel glanced over to catch Dean’s surprised eye. Castiel quickly looked away, wondering if he’d crossed a line. Dean must have noticed the sweat, because he chuckled, “Yeah, I’ve been to a lot of different schools. The curriculum is all different from each district, or whatever. I just take the classes they give me, y’know,” Dean sighed heavily and Castiel looked back over. Dean was looking away again, “And it’s not like I’m in a place long enough for it to matter anyway.”

Dean’s words echoed in Castiel’s head. The atmosphere had become tremendously somber. Castiel felt relaxed as he took a deep breath and dared for a tease: “So that’s why you’re not good at history?”

Dean turned back to Castiel, but Castiel merely cocked a sarcastic brow at Dean. Dean huffed a laugh in surprise. He shook his head, “Oh, fuck you, man. I could be good, but that teacher is such a drag.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, it is so. Pfff,” Dean shook his head in offense, but it warmed Castiel’s blood to see Dean smile. Dean continued, “She makes it so freaking boring.”

“So you’re just faking not knowing stuff?” Castiel asked skeptically.

Dean looked back down at him, “Of course. Like, I knew Constintanople was the capital of the Ottoman Empire. Or, rather, Istanbul.”

Castiel raised an impressive brow, “Wow.”

“Yes, thank you,” Dean replied, playing into Castiel’s tease. Dean said in an astonished tone, “I mean, who wouldn’t know that? ‘ _Istanbul, Not Constantinople._ ’ Right?”

Castiel’s brow furrowed, “I don’t follow.”

Dean looked at Castiel with a disbelieving look, “You know. They Might Be Giants.”

“Who might be giants?” Castiel asked seriously. He was lost. Dean’s eyes bulged and he leaned towards Castiel, “Oh my god! You don’t know that song? ‘ _Why they changed it I can’t say, people just liked it better that way_ ’?”

Dean sang the lyrics and opened his palms to Castiel as if this were enough for Castiel to understand Dean’s reference.

Castiel shrugged. Dean hit his forehead and agonized, “Oh, man! What a tragedy!” 

Castiel was about to feel ashamed for missing out on when Dean shook his head and looked back over to Castiel, “I’ll show it to you later. It’ll blow your mind, dude.”

Castiel was a little surprised that Dean wanted to do something with Castiel another time. Especially after all that had happened today alone. He wouldn’t have blamed Dean if he wanted this to be their first and last interaction. But Castiel couldn’t deny the thought of Dean showing him something was appealing. The idea brought a soft smile to Castiel’s lips, “Okay then.” 

Dean’s face fell into blankness as he looked at Castiel. In that moment, Dean’s eyes were softer than Castiel had ever noticed. Castiel lost the smile and licked subconsciously at his tender lips. He asked Dean, “What?”

“Oh,” Dean started, as if shaken out of a daydream. He blinked at Castiel and laughed with embarrassment. He looked away, rubbing at his neck, “I don’t know, I guess I just never saw you smile before is all.”

Castiel blushed and looked away, lips pressed together. He was glad the cold peas were helping to cool his hot face. Anyway, it wasn’t right to feel embarrassed by Dean’s words. He was just being friendly, and Castiel wasn’t used to friendly, that was all.

“Well,” Castiel tried to save face, “You have only been here a week.”

Dean tried on a toothy grin that had Castiel’s heart thudding against his chest. Dean’s words had Castiel genuinely concerned for his young health, as the boy asked, “So what you’re saying is you’ll be smiling a lot more often now that I’m around?”

Castiel let his eyes roll, but also allowed another smile to slip by, replying, “Are you always so full of yourself?”

“You should try it sometime,” Dean quipped back. Castiel met his gaze again and held it as they shared a smile in their own moment. The lush green of the surrounding landscape held a shimmering beauty that was capitalized by the running river, glimmering as the surface caught the sun’s fragmented rays. The scene’s beauty was attested in Dean’s eyes. Castiel could see the sun catch in irises that equated only to the trees’ plumage against the clear blue sky.

Castiel could feel his heart in his throat and he felt terrified. He broke eye contact, taking the peas of the other side of his face as he sat up slowly. He said, “I should head back soon.”

“Got an early curfew from your folks?” Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head, “No, I have to make dinner.”

“Let me see your eye,” Dean said. Castiel looked over to him before presenting the other side of his face. Dean whistled, “That’s a nasty shiner. Will your parents care?”

Castiel swallowed, pulling his backpack towards him as he said cryptically, “No.”

There was a tense silence and Castiel stared at the grass a slight breeze swept past them. Castiel felt Dean take his backpack away from him. Castiel looked up to see Dean getting something out of his backpack, “Well, then you have like five minutes, right? I forgot I brought this too.”

“Dean, you don’t have to-”

“It’s okay, I want to,” Dean chuckled, taking out a small sewing kit. He threaded a needle with precision and Castiel was too mesmerized by Dean’s sweeping movements to protest further. Dean unzipped Castiel’s backpack and felt down at the corner to pull the needle through. Dean asked conversationally, “So you have other siblings?”

Castiel gulped, “Yes, eight.”

Dean raised his brow and whistled, “Damn! That’s a lot.”

“Mmm, it can be,” Castiel replied, still watching Dean’s hand as it pushed and pulled the thread.

“Are they all younger?” Dean asked. Castiel couldn’t figure if the small talk was out of place or felt proper. He took a deep breath and played along, “No, five are older and three are younger. Samandriel is still in kindergarten, Uriel is in middle school, Anna’s a sophomore, Naomi’s a senior, and the rest are all adults.”

Castiel’s mouth snapped shut and he peeked up to Dean quickly. Dean seemed absorbed in the sewing, not minding that Castiel had been talking so much. But Castiel had noticed. He didn’t typically indulge in speaking about himself at length. But his words had fallen out as easily as Dean’s needle had moved through Castiel’s backpack strap.

Then, Dean’s hand paused, “Wait, Naomi…”

Castiel sighed and supplied: “The student council president, yes.”

Dean’s eyes shot up to Castiel, shocked, “Oh damn, she gave me a tour my first day. Gave me this whole big lecture about upholding Smallville’s integrity. She was tighter wound than her bun. No offense…”

Dean tacked on the last comment quickly, turning back to the backpack. Castiel smiled, “It’s okay, we don’t get along very well.”

“Oh, why’s that?” Dean asked. Castiel’s breath stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to tell Dean about what had happened, about how Naomi had outed him in front of the entire faculty. Castiel definitely didn’t want to bring up how Naomi thought Castiel’s “choice” to be gay was detrimental to his future. So Castiel merely said, “She means well, her intentions are just misplaced.”

Dean chuckled again, “That’s a delicate way of putting it. You really are a nice guy, Cas.”

Castiel’s eyes shot up from Dean’s handiwork to his face. His lips parted before he breathed out, “What?”

Dean looked up, catching Castiel’s shocked expression and giving him an inquisitive brow.

“Cas,” he repeated, “It’s like a nickname. Is that okay?”

Castiel blushed, “Oh, yeah sure…”

Dean smiled, “Good.”

Dean looped the thread and bit at the end. He zipped back up the bag and handed it to Castiel by the reattached strap.

Castiel took it gingerly, “Thank you. I don’t know what I can do to repay you for all you’ve done.”

“Oh Jesus, you’re too formal. Forget about it,” Dean smiled up at Castiel. Castiel smiled back. Dean bit his lip, hesitated, then asked, “Well, actually, what are you doing this weekend?”

Castiel was a little taken aback by the sudden turn, but he kept face as he replied, “Chores. Why?”

“Well, maybe you could come tutor me,” Dean asked with another toothy grin, “You know, to ‘repay’ me, or whatever.”

Castiel’s brow cocked, “I thought it was more fun not to care?”

“Yeah, but,” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, “Anna mentioned you’re good at helping her out with that. Who knows? You might even be more entertaining than Mrs. Doyle.”

Castiel rolled his eyes again and hid his smile as he turned to the tree line. He didn’t look at Dean as he nodded, “Alright.”

He looked back down to see a charming spread of a smile on Dean’s lips. Castiel’s eyes softened as he got lost in the expression.

“Alright then,” Dean said, “See you tomorrow, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Castiel left, walking home along the road as the sun began to set. Autumn hadn’t quite taken over summer yet, and the day was still proving to be long. The sunset accompanied Castiel all the way home. The entire time, his mind was full of Dean’s voice, saying, “ _Cas… Cas… Cas…_ ”

###### 

###### 

The past six weeks since Dean showed his face, Cas has been meticulously replaying the memories of Dean and Castiel becoming friends.

The memories have been something that Cas had been good at suppressing, but they have been surfacing in a most peculiar way for Cas.

Ever since Cas’s rough, one night with the new Dean, he had been waking from terribly vivid dreams of when Dean broke his heart. The dreams were accompanied by sleepless nights. These nights, Cas would sit out on his back patio. His mind drifted, and Cas felt the most entertaining thoughts were to map the memories of Dean from high school.

The days at the diner and with Jack came and went. Going through the earliest memories of Dean and Cas’s relationship during his daily breaks or while trying to fall asleep became as routine as the most methodical day could get.

Each run through of that week back in his junior year of high school brings another golden nugget of a detail Cas had forgotten about. Although his behavior at times made him cringe, he can’t help but relive it anyway.

The particular set of memories Cas is entranced with have him feeling melancholic about the Dean that had showed up to the other small town in Kansas a month and a half ago. The contrast between the teenager Dean and the one behind the alley were hard to miss.

At the beginning, Dean had seemed like a knight on a horse, coming to Castiel’s rescue; so chivalrous and kind. Cas wants that back, but knows it will never be. He is happy enough with feeling it only through the weakened memories of his youth; resolved that he will never have another encounter with Dean Winchester.

Cas is in this general state of mind - albeit not stuck in that memory loop at present - during another weekday at the diner. A small lunch rush had put Cas in the kitchen to help with orders, but Gadreel’s tickets have slowed and Cas is ready to enter back into the dining area.

He wonders idly if he should take his lunch break when a person at the bar catches his eye. Cas quickly pivots back into the kitchen, looking through the serving window to watch Dean skimming the menu, calmly sipping at a cup of coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'in & out' - moon king - hamtramck '16

Dean is sitting at the far corner of the bar. He looks up as he picks up the coffee mug.

Cas slams his back against the kitchen wall as he flings himself back from the serving window he’d been peering through. He can’t seem to catch his breath. The memories of young Dean and he becoming friends coupled with their last interaction behind the diner were enough to fuel Cas for at least another year. Seeing Dean now, casually sipping coffee at his bartop, is overwhelming.

Cas’s eyes skim over the kitchen and catch Hannah’s. She’s paused over the stove, meat sizzling as she stares at Cas. Cas’s eyes bug out and he clears his throat, trying to save face. Hannah doesn’t buy it. Her brow cocks, “You see a ghost?”

To Cas’s credit, he is able to breathe through her question, although he’s not sure if the air really reaches his lungs.

“No,” Cas stammers out, “No, just a spider.”

Hannah asks as if she knows he’s lying, “A spider?”

“Mhm,” Cas says, inching towards the door again.

Bart chimes in, “Cas, you’re scared of spiders? Want Hannah to kill it?”

“Why me? You’re scared of them too, huh?”

“No!”

“You want a hug? I can see you shaking in your boots from here,” Hannah taunts.

“Look! When I was like twenty there was…” Bart begins.

Cas sneaks out as Bart goes on about his scary spider experience.

In his need to escape, Cas walks right out of the kitchen doors that are near the edge of the bar, having a solid plan to bee-line to the back office in the opposite direction. 

“Hey,” Dean’s voice comes from behind Cas, bringing him to a sudden halt. Cas squeezes his eyes close and he bites his lip. _Dammit all to hell,_ Cas screams in his head. He hadn’t meant for Dean to spot him. He considers just walking on, then Dean will leave him alone forever and this can all become a harmless nightmare.

“Cas!” Dean’s voice calls louder. Cas whips around, and fixes Dean with a murderous gaze. Dean is looking at him, face unreadable but eyes shining. 

Cas peeks around the diner cautiously, taking a measured sigh of relief at seeing Gadreel waiting tables in the dining area. Cas has to stop this Dean-train before it derails and it’s revealed to all in the diner that Cas is associated with this trucker.

Taking a deep breath, he comes around the corner and behind the bar, plastering the fakest, biggest smile he can on his face. He grabs the coffee decanter roughly and begins topping off Dean’s mug.

“Hey, thanks,” Dean says, returning Cas’s look with a genuine smile. 

Cas’s stretched cheeks don’t relax as he hisses under his breath, “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s real nice,” Dean replies, keeping his smile as he sips at the fresh round of coffee.

Cas gives a harsh laugh as he replies, “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

“Me ordering a burger is going to ruin your life?” Dean asks innocently.

“There are burgers at McDonald’s. You should try one,” Cas spits back through his toothy smile.

“Hmm, doesn’t quite have the same view,” Dean says, gazing into Cas’s eyes. 

Cas’s fake smile stretches even tighter, “I will punch you in the face.”

Both Cas and Dean know that he wouldn’t actually hit Dean, but it is a threat Cas is willing to throw out there. Dean laughs in shock, “That’d be a sight, huh? You think we’d get into the local paper?”

Cas fumes and is about to retort when he eyes Gadreel approaching the barback. Cas clears his throat as Gadreel passes by and Cas continues with a softer version of his fake smile, “So a burger?”

Dean’s brow cocks in surprise. His eyes follow behind Cas as Gadreel comes back around with a tray of food. He smiles triumphantly, saying politely, “Yes, please.”

Cas replies after he sees Gadreel back in the dining area, “Oh, no. We’re fresh out.”

Dean’s smile stretches, “The BLT?”

“All gone.”

“An omelette, then.”

“No more eggs.”

“Okay, you’re really not going to serve me?” Dean asks in slight astonishment. Cas eyes the bar stools and loses his fake smile once he makes sure the bar is safely clear of any nearby customers.

“Well, you’re not _really_ here for food, so,” Cas replies with a sharp shrug as punctuation.

Dean bites his lip and holds Cas’s eyes. He chuckles and looks down at his coffee, “Alright, you got me. I didn’t come here for a meal… Although I really did dig that burger from last time.”

Cas keeps his composure and suffocates the desire to roll his eyes; he has nothing to say to that, since he vividly recalls six weeks ago having to pitch his food to Dean like a desperate door-to-door salesman.

“But yeah, I came to see you,” Dean continues, licking his lips. Cas isn’t able to control his face this time as he gets caught in the tractor beam of Dean’s eyes. Dean offers a flirtatious smile, “I mean, come on, can you blame me? I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Keep your voice down,” Cas whispers harshly, ignoring the blush spreading on his cheeks, averting his eyes to look around the diner cautiously.

“Yeah, you are not being suspicious at all,” Dean says with a sarcastic grin. Cas shakes his head, turning away without another word. But instead of hiding away in the kitchen again, Cas makes his way to the register at the other end of the bar. He can feel Dean’s eyes on him and it quickens his movements.

Cas’s heart pounds as he comps a coffee and tears the receipt out. His hand trembles slightly as he takes a pen from his waist apron to write his address and the time “midnight” on the back of the receipt. 

Cas turns back to Dean just as he looks away and sips his coffee. Cas all but slams the receipt on the countertop in front of Dean.

“What’s this?” Dean asks.

“Coffee’s on the house,” Cas says shortly, fake smile back on his face, “ _Now_ get the fuck out.”

“Will I see you again?” Dean asks, actually sounding concerned.

Cas begins to turn away, using the same voice he would use for any other stranger passing through his diner, “Don’t forget your receipt.”

Cas turns away, not bothering to watch as Dean leaves.

###### 

Fifteen minutes until midnight and Cas is pacing around his apartment. He cleans, then messes it up again. He catches himself in the mirror and changes for the fifth time. He drinks another glass of water. And then a rum and coke. And then another… And another. 

Still, his nerves refuse to settle.

Cas has no idea what he’s doing tonight. At the diner, Cas had resolved himself to give Dean the harshest tongue lashing of his life. He would declare his deep hatred for Dean, what he really thought of him, and push him away for good.

When Jack came home he let the thoughts of Dean fall into the back of his mind. Jack ate and did his homework at the bartop, chatting with Cas about his AP courses and a new science experiment they were doing in class. Jack helped close the diner, as he did every weekday after finishing his homework, and then Cas went up with Jack to his loft to make dinner. 

Jack was studying and Cas got lost in thought as he watched pork loin roast and broccoli sear. Cas then decided that he would not give Dean the satisfaction of knowing how much he had affected Cas back in high school. Instead, he would use Dean again. 

Cas watched some TV with Jack. He tried to keep up with the comments his son was making, but his mind was far away.

Then, as Cas was saying goodnight to Jack and about to walk home, a thought struck him to his core: what if Dean didn’t show up. 

Midnight was late, and he hadn’t cared about a confirmation when he’d given the receipt to Dean. Dean is a trucker, and Cas knows little about that career except that time is of the essence. Perhaps Dean had just been passing through.

The thought confused Cas more than anything. On one hand, the idea of Dean showing up had Cas’s head spinning with ideas for the entire day on what he really wants from the interaction. On the other hand, a deep disappointment rumbles at the pit of his stomach at the idea of Dean not coming.

The only reason Cas had given him his address and a time was Dean flattered him into submission. Cas couldn’t deny to himself that Dean had also been on his mind since their time together in the back alley. But he would never have been in this situation in the first place if Dean had just kept on trucking and never come back to Cas’s diner.  
Cas’s thoughts had done nothing but make him more manic. He had arrived home and, among all the other activities, did something sinister. He cleaned his anus and lubed up a buttplug. He ignored his hardening cock as he worked it in and pulled back on his pants.

As he went about his apartment - it was too clean, it was too dirty, he had dressed too nicely, he dressed too casually - he felt the plug like a lump of anticipation. He bent over as little as possible and let the lust pool in his pelvis.

Midnight arrives. Cas stiffens and grips his glass with its amber liquid (he had shifted to rum on the rocks about twenty minutes ago). Nothing.

Cas downs the rest of the tumbler’s contents and drags himself to his bedroom, slumping face first onto his bed. Burying his face in his covers, he holds back his tears. Damn that Dean. Fuck him for making Cas think that something would happen tonight. But no, he is truly upset with himself for putting himself out there like that.

Cas is damning Dean’s very existence when - knock, knock.

Cas’s head swivels off the bed and stares out his open bedroom door. His gut tingles with sparks, but he’s still suspicious, thinking that he’s possibly imagined the sound.

The knock comes again, proving Cas wrong.

Cas leaps off the bed and speeds to the door. His hand is on the handle, but he hesitates. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Cas attempts to clear his mind and fix his face with the most unassuming countenance he can muster.

Cas opens the door to Dean, leaning against the door jam. He looks over to Cas, half smile cocked. He bears that look at Cas, saying as a greeting: “Was starting to think you gave me the wrong address.”

“You’re late,” Cas states.

Dean shrugs, “Give me a break, I walked.”

Cas rolls his eyes. He looks back at Dean, who’s lost his smile and is staring at Cas’s face. Cas shrinks under the gaze.

“Well?” Dean asks, brow raising expectantly, “You going to let me in or you want to give the neighbors a show?”

Cas grabs Dean’s bicep, dragging him through the door and slamming it behind them. 

Cas turns and leans his back against the door, watching Dean stumble in and look around. Dean does a three-sixty and finds Cas’s eyes again. Cas’s face is blank, just watching Dean. He’s not sure where to start, what to say. 

Dean helps with that, “Nice place. Not really what I expected, but… It’s nice.”

Cas’s brow raises curiously, “What did you expect?”

Dean shrugs and continues, “I don’t know… A bigger version of your room in Smallville?”

Cas rolls his eyes, pushing off the door and moving to the kitchen, saying, “I’m not sixteen anymore, Dean.”

“Oh, you don’t say?” Dean replies with a chuckle. 

Cas isn’t laughing. His head is foggy from the alcohol, but his tipsy conscious is holding back his tongue instead of loosening it. He considers pouring another one as he gets the bottle of rum out. 

He feels more than hears Dean approach. His voice comes from behind, “Would you pour me one of those, cowboy?”

Cas wordlessly gets out another tumbler from the cabinet above, turning back to his countertop. Dean has sat on one of the stools on the other side. Cas catches Dean looking at him, but instead of looking away, Dean smiles softly. Cas is the one to bite his lip and move his eyes to the tumblers. Yeah, he will definitely need another.

He fills the tumblers with ice and three fingers of rum. He slides Dean’s glass to him across the counter.

“Thanks,” Dean says, breaking the stifling silence. He lifts his glass to Cas, “Cheers.”

Cas lifts his glass in the air, not meeting Dean’s. He closes his eyes and drinks down all but one finger of the liquid. He takes a deep breath as he sets his tumbler down on the counter. His eyes skim over to Dean, who is looking at him with wide eyes, his own drink still full.

“What?” Cas asks with a straight face.

Dean huffs a surprised laugh, “I just forgot what a fucking heavy weight you are.”

Cas blinks and looks away, blushing. The first time he ever got drunk was with Dean; even then it had surprised Dean how much Cas could put down.

“Yeah, well,” Cas says spitefully, still looking off, “I guess you’ve forgotten a lot.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean, mister ‘high school didn’t mean anything’?” 

Cas presses his lips together and shakes his head. Dean had said in the alley that he’d forgotten how good it was to kiss Cas. But more than that, Cas was upset that Dean was so happy about their reconnection while Cas was in agony; Dean had obviously forgotten what he’d done to Cas at the end.

“Just say it,” Dean says. Cas looks back at him with an impatient eye and is met by the same look. 

Cas grits his teeth and replies, “Say what?”

“You tell me! You’re being extra quiet and all passive aggressive-y,” Dean says with a grimace.

“So?” 

Dean is exacerbated, “So. That’s classic Cas-speak for you have something you need to get off your chest.”

Cas takes a deep breath and looks away. He swallows the rest of his rum and looks down at the ice in the empty tumbler. He shrugs before replying, “I guess I’m wondering why you’re here.”

Dean scoffs, “You gave me your address!”

“I meant at the diner. Here, in Bootbock,” Cas looks back at him with an instigatory look, continuing, “I told you to leave.”

Dean sighs and looks down at his tumbler, “Yeah, well, you should know I was never good at obeying orders.”

He takes a sip of his rum. Cas’s eyes trail from Dean’s lips down to his throat. Dean swallows, pursing his lips that exaggerate his upper-lip dimples, and looks back over to Cas. Their eyes meet and Cas’s heart hiccups. A small smile plays on Dean’s lips, “Besides, I already told you, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

Cas forces himself to roll his eyes and suppresses a lustful shiver. He’s trying to pick a fight, here. His eyelids flutter and he looks away, hissing sarcastically, “How flattering.” He looks back over at Dean and continues skeptically, “And here I thought you had a career as a truck driver. Didn’t know they were so easy going about making detours.”

Dean’s brow raises, replying sardonically, “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were so keen on the details of my life.”

Cas’s eyes squint as a response; he’s waiting.

Dean sighs and explains: “Fine. I have a new route. It’s why I stopped here in the first place the other month. I was driving through again a few weeks ago and couldn’t stop. But this time passing by I was making good time... I wanted to see you. So, I went where I knew I could find you. Happy?”

Cas is not happy. 

He abandons his empty glass and walks around the counter to where Dean sits. Dean’s body rotates to Cas as he comes closer. Cas accuses, “So this is just convenient for you.”

“Are you serious? I said I wanted to see you,” Dean replies stubbornly, his eyes staying on Cas’s, “Don’t you believe me?”

“Not a bit,” Cas bites out, moving into Dean’s space, in between his legs. He looks down at Dean, their noses only inches from one another.

After a brief silence, Dean breaks the eye contact to look down at Cas’s lips. He huffs out disarmingly, “Still don’t get that personal space thing, hm?”

“Stop acting like you know me,” Cas instigates.

“I will if you say it again. Tell me that all of it didn't mean anything to you,” Dean says, looking back up to meet Cas’s gaze. His eyes glisten with unspoken emotion. 

Cas reads those eyes and has to push the air in and out of him. He blinks, looking away as he says as cool as possible while blushing madly, “You didn’t mean anything to me.”

Dean gives a small chuckle. Cas eyes dart back to him. Dean shakes his head, his arms wrap around Cas’s waist as he says, “You’re such a bad liar.”

“And you’re an arrogant prick,” Cas growls. 

Dean’s brow furrows seriously, arms stiffening around Cas. His voice lowers, “You think it’s easy for me? To face you like this?”

“I should think so,” Cas fumes, “Since it’s taken you long enough.” 

He let Dean put his arms around him just like he lets Dean get up and push him against the wall behind them.

Dean has their bodies flush, his arm pushing against Cas’s shoulders harshly. Dean is so close Cas can feel his heavy breath tickle his lips. Cas holds his glare, lust exploding at the look of anger on Dean’s face.

“You are really starting to piss me off, you know that?” Dean whispers.

“Good,” Cas replies, and he means it with all his heart, “You piss me off too. I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

“Then why did you ask me here tonight?” Dean hits back.

An overwhelming fuel of confidence rolls over Cas. He moves his face closer, so much so that he can see the lust fill in Dean’s enlarged pupils as his eyes roam over Cas’s face. He snarls essentially against Dean’s lips, “For the same reason you came.”

Cas meant to use Dean tonight, but Dean is also using Cas. This message is clear as they study each other, so close they share the same air. Then, like a crack of thunder, Dean is suddenly biting at Cas’s mouth.

Cas inhales sharply, fighting back Dean with his tongue. Dean’s arm has moved and he’s grabbing Cas’s shirt collar in his fists, still pushing him with the same force against the wall. Cas, moves under Dean’s shirt, rubbing up and down his fevered skin.

Cas tries to push Dean back so he can take control, but Dean’s hips lock in and he slams Cas back against the wall. Their teeth clack together and Cas bites hard at Dean’s bottom lip before he breaks the long, intense kiss. Dean gulps air but Cas is bending his neck so he can bite and suck at the crook of Dean’s neck.

Dean moans. The heat in Cas’s pelvis has rocketed to his pulsing cock. Dean’s own hardened member rubs against his through their pants and Cas gives a soft moan of approval. Dean’s hands grab and press at Cas’s hips as he slots their trapped dicks together and thrusts up. Cas bites down hard on Dean’s shoulder. Dean moans again against Cas’s ear, hissing out, “Is this what you wanted?”

“No,” Cas says, rocking his hips against Dean’s rhythm, feeling the distant lump of the buttplug as he moves. He licks at Dean’s neck, moving up to bite his earlobe and whisper, “I want more.”

Cas can feel Dean’s body shudder over his. Dean’s hands come up to Cas’s cheek and neck, moving him back towards Dean’s lips. He licks into Cas’s mouth and Cas works his tongue against Dean’s. Their hips are thrusting against one another so much that it begins to burn.

Dean pulls his tongue back and slurs into Cas’s mouth, “Where’s your bed?”

“Down the hall,” Cas replies as Dean bites his lip. Cas tries to push against Dean again, but the man still won’t let up. Instead, Dean presses the hardest he has against Cas, completely pinning him to the wall. Dean breaks the kiss and pushes his forehead against Cas’s. He says breathlessly, “Put your arms around me.”

Cas does as Dean says, his arms now around Dean’s neck. He stares into Dean’s eyes, mustering all the loathing he can. Dean seems fueled by the look, his hands scooping the bottom of Cas’s ass and lifting him up. Although Cas is only a little shorter than Dean, he’s limber enough to hug his legs around Dean’s hips. His cock bends in a slightly uncomfortable way, but Dean isn’t giving him much of a choice.

Dean grunts in affirmation, capturing Cas’s mouth with his and veering them the short distance down the hall. Cas’s back rolls against the door frame as Dean maneuvers them through. Although, he’s doing it rather blindly, since both his and Cas’s mouths are preoccupied on the other’s skin.

That all soon ends though, as Dean stops and then Cas is in free fall. He makes a small gasp as his lands on his comforters, eyes wide and looking up at Dean through the dimmed darkness, crawling up on the edge of the bed to straddle Cas’s waist.

Dean’s hands fly to Cas’s button up shirt, deftly slipping the buttons through their holes. Their eyes meet and Dean voice drips with desire, “God, I missed you, Cas. I want you so bad.”

Cas’s breath wavers but his hands feverishly tug at Dean’s shirt now. He’s wearing a henley top, which fits him suspiciously well. Cas yanks it up from the back, whining back, “I want you naked.”

Cas reaches up to bite at Dean’s mouth. Dean finishes unbuttoning Cas’s shirt and pushes it off one shoulder at a time. In turn, Cas pulls Dean’s shirt over his head from behind. Dean breaks off the kiss with a groan to get up on his knees above Cas. He takes the shirt the rest of the way off and throws it to the side, eyes finding Cas once more.

Cas’s hands immediately reach up to paw at Dean’s chest, but Dean is leaning over him again, pressing their chests flush together. Dean ducks his head past Cas’s; he can feel Dean’s lips and teeth on the side of his neck. Cas gasps at the contact, but his hands have other ideas.

He reaches down between their bodies and starts undoing Dean’s jeans. Dean moans against Cas’s skin and lifts his ass in the air, giving Cas’s hands enough room to work. Dean’s elbow comes up near Cas’s head as his hand comes down to join Cas’s, undoing Cas’s own pants. The breath punches out of Cas at the movement.

Cas finishes Dean’s jeans and drags them down with his underwear over his hips and thick cock. Dean sighs and pushes away from Cas. Cas marvels as a naked Dean stands up at the edge of the bed. He strokes Cas’s upper thighs as he kicks off his pants and socks from his feet.

Dean positions himself in between Cas’s leg now, his hands that were stroking Cas’s thigh going to his waistband. Dean pulls Cas’s legs up and he lifts them submissively, letting out a satisfying groan as his hard cock is released and lays out on his stomach. He can feel the buttplug’s mass press against his opening as Dean hikes Cas’s ankles on his shoulders.

Cas sees Dean licking his lips before he pulls off the rest of the pants and briefs, along with Cas’s socks. Dean pushes the legs aside, quickly crowds back into Cas’s space though. They hungrily press their bare bodies against one another and Dean grabs at Cas’s mouth with his.

Cas wraps his legs around Dean’s waist and feels the plug press further out. Dean’s cock slides against his and they moan into each other’s mouths. Dean dry thrusts his body against Cas’s, and as a response his legs tighten around Dean and hands claw at his hair. 

Dean’s hands are at Cas’s hip and thigh as he manages to rip away from Cas’s mouth. Dean’s hips stutter and he growls against Cas’s lips, “More?”

“More,” Cas moans dangerously. 

He feels Dean’s cock jerk between their bodies and Dean replies with a biting moan, asking, “Mm, do you want to clean then?”

“I already am,” Cas’s rough voice falls out, pushing up into Dean’s abdomen with his hips.

Dean’s breath hitches and his hand that was at Cas’s thigh reaches down below Cas’s ass cheek, thumb lightly touching his rim where the plug’s end is stuck. Dean sucks in his breath and exhales harshly, “Jesus fucking Christ, Cas.”

“You act surprised,” Cas looks up at Dean, dimly lit by the light coming through the open bedroom door. Cas pulls Dean in closer with his legs, reaching down between them to grab Dean and his cock. He strokes them together. There is a beat of Dean trying to catch his breath.

“You’re just so hot,” Dean punches out, weeping as Cas moves their cocks together. Dean growls, pushing hard on Cas’s body so that he’s in the middle of the bed. Cas loses the grip of their cock, and is about to complain before Dean crawls up after him. Dean’s head moves down and kisses at Cas’s thighs. Cas’s heart pounds roughly, and he wants Dean to be just as rough. But Dean moves down further, his movements slowing and kisses softening.

Cas loses his patience, “What are you doing?”

“Taking my time, will you chill out,” Dean says against the base of Cas’s dick.

Cas grumbles, “Why? Come on, let’s fuck.”

“I want to taste you,” Dean says, his tongue flattening at the underside Cas’s cock. Cas loses his breath and presses his head against the mattress behind him with a choked groan. Dean continues, “You said I forgot a lot, so let me remember.”

Cas tries to keep his cool as his wavering voice stutters out, “Just hurry up.”

Dean seems to ignore him, his chin bumping past Cas’s cock to nibble at his hip bone. Cas grumbles but manages to keep his lips sealed. Dean says against his skin, “Cool tattoo. Mean something?”

“Mind your own business,” Cas grunts, give his hips an impatient thrust under Dean’s mouth. He doesn’t want to talk to Dean about his life, especially the tattoo he got with his college boyfriend.

Dean huffs a chuckle and readjusts. His lips wrap around Cas’s cockhead; he pushes down. Cas bites down on his lip, trying to control the onslaught of pleasure by measuring his heavy breaths. Dean is shallow, and it is by no means a skillful blowjob, but it is Dean’s mouth on Cas’s cock, moving up and down at a slow rate that threatens Cas’s sanity.

Cas is finding it more difficult by the second to keep quiet, to hide how much he enjoys feeling Dean’s mouth wrapped around him. He even exhales with gratitude when Dean pulls off his head.

The reprieve doesn’t last for long. Dean’s tongue slides down the underside of Cas’s cock and his breath strangles in the back of his throat again. A punctuated moan escapes Cas as Dean trails further, tongue exploring the edge of Cas’s balls and below.

“Ah,” Cas groans, palm rubbing at his eye and the other coming down to pet the top of Dean’s head. Dean ducks lower, hands lifting up Cas’s ass as Dean’s tongue massages his perineum. Cas’s eyes squeeze close, and he can’t help but let the string of exclamations leave him. He huffs, “I’m going crazy.”

“Yes, baby,” Dean moans against Cas’s skin. Cas’s palm presses deeply into his eye socket; he hates having Dean’s validation. Cas can feel one of Dean’s hands move to the buttplug, giving it a teasing tug.

Cas’s grip in Dean’s hair tightens as he snarls, “Fucking do it already.”

Cas can feel Dean’s teeth drag against his perineum as he gives the plug another pull. His voice is gruff as he asks, “You want it?”

“ _Do it, Dean,_ ” Cas demands. He’s not going to be the one begging here. Dean growls, but does as Cas says. Dean pulls away and spits against Cas’s hole. He gives a big pull and Cas’s hole stretches over the thick of the plug. The rest pushes out at a slow, easy slide.

“ _Fu_ ck,” Dean’s voice rumbles.

“You going to do something about it?” Cas’s rough voice tempts.

Dean’s fingernails dig into Cas’s skin and his tongue pushes roughly into Cas’s contracting hole. His tongue fucks in and out of Cas for a few pumps. It’s enough to break Cas, eliciting regular moans from him. Dean pulls out suddenly and spits again before flattening his tongue against the rim. Cas moves his hips in tight circles around Dean’s tongue.

Dean goes to press back into him, but Cas wants full control now. He pulls away completely, roughly getting his legs out of Dean’s grip. Dean looks up, mouth glistening and eyes confused. Cas doesn’t give that any mind, just grabbing Dean’s shoulder. He pulls him up on the bed and throws him down so that Dean is laying on his back now.

“Wha-?” Dean starts to ask, but Cas is already straddling Dean’s face. He’s seated so he’s looking at Dean’s body, seeing Dean’s hard cock bouncing in shock and longing.

Cas leans over so he’s on all fours, his hole positioning over Dean’s face. He feels two hands at his ass cheeks, spreading them open. Dean’s tongue quickly follows, his voice moaning as he pushes his tongue into Cas.

Cas moans back, taking one hand and stroking Dean’s cock. Dean slaps Cas’s ass, and oh, fuck! That’s what Cas needed. 

Cas spits on Dean’s cock, pumping his fist over it tightly. Dean’s tongue hooks down into Cas and presses in harder. Cas wants Dean to hit him again, though. He sucks the tip of Dean’s cock into his mouth.

Dean tongue yanks out of Cas as Dean calls, “Cas! Ah!”

Dean smacks Cas’s ass again and he grunts around Dean’s dick with pleasure. He sucks in the length of Dean’s cock, pushing into his throat. Dean bites Cas’s asscheek and Cas gives a long moan around Dean’s cock. Cas rocks his ass back and forth on Dean’s flattened tongue, pushing his mouth up and down on Dean’s cock simultaneously. 

“Fuck it! Cas, oh I’m- Damn, I could cum just from your mouth,” Dean moans, kissing and licking desperately at Cas’s hole, fingers digging into Cas’s raw ass cheeks. 

He pulls off with a pop, spit sloppily stringing from his mouth to Dean’s dick. He moves his hand to stroke Dean again as he replies, “Don’t. You’re going to cum in me.”

Dean’s hips thrust up at that, and Cas drags his mouth down the side of his twitching cock. Dean gives another long lick from Cas’s perineum to the other side of his gaping hole.

“You have a good enough taste?” Cas asks coldly. He sits up fully on Dean’s face. Dean’s voice is suffocated under Cas riding his mouth, “I could eat you all night.”

“Didn’t I just say you’re going to cum inside me?” Cas remains seated on Dean’s face as he reaches behind him to the nightstand. He slides the drawer open enough to snake his hand in and grab his trusty lube.

He opens the cap and squeezes some into the palm of his hand. Rubbing it into his fingers some, he leans over Dean once more and begins stroking Dean’s dick with his lubed hand. Dean moans, his tongue preoccupied by circling around Cas’s rim.

“I’m ready,” Cas says, getting up fully on his knees and away from Dean’s mouth.

He walks his knees up to where he’s holding Dean’s slickened cock. His hand moves behind him to steady himself on Dean’s hip as he points Dean’s tip towards his hole. He massages the slick cockhead against his head.

“Oh, Cas, yes! _Please!_ ” Dean begs. Cas smiles to himself. 

Cas bears down and has Dean breaching past his rim. 

Dean’s hands snap to Cas’s hips as he moans loudly. Dean’s voice fuels Cas as he pushes down further. But instead of working him in steadily, Cas wants to feel filled by Dean as soon as possible, so he pushes down until he’s fully seated on Dean.

Dean moans start to sound like screams, his heels digging into the mattress wildly. Cas’s moves his other hand to hold Dean’s thigh in front of him. With the extra stability, Cas starts rocking his ass on Dean’s cock.

A string of expletives tumbles from Dean’s mouth, but Cas can’t make them out through the pounding in his ears. He has Dean filling him inch by inch, over and over. Cas’s riding, although maintained, becomes faster paced. His hand that had been holding Dean’s hip comes in front to grasp Dean’s other leg so Cas can lean forward.

A sharp slap comes at his ass, encouraging Cas. His hips rock lewdly, grunting and moaning every time Dean’s cock rubs up and over his prostate. Dean holds Cas’s bouncing ass cheeks, pulling down roughly every time Cas rocks up. Dean is so deep, Cas is losing his control as his moans stream out evenly.

“Yeah, you ride that dick so good, angel!” Dean moans from behind him. Cas’s hips stutter and he locks down his hips as he’s fully seated on Dean. He didn’t expect Dean to call him his pet name from high school. Maybe Dean has called all the people he’s fucked since then ‘angel.’ The thought infuriates Cas further. He rubs Dean around inside of him as he growls out, “Don’t call me that!”

“Admit it,” Dean sits up, his hands pushing and pulling Cas’s on his dick. Cas can feel Dean’s chest against his back, his hands gripping hard on Cas’s hips to make him ride. Dean’s mouth is at the back of Cas’s ear, he continues: “Admit that you missed me.”

Cas is moaning, enjoying Dean making him ride him. He doesn’t have the capacity to argue with Dean. All he can do is shake his head and call out through his ragged breathing, “No!”

“No?” Dean growls, but there is a mischievousness in his tone that sends a shiver down Cas’s back. 

Then, Dean pulls his legs out from under Cas’s grasp. Cas gasps as he thinks he’s about to fall, but Dean’s arm comes around and wraps around Cas roughly, keeping him upright. As a result, Dean’s cock bottoms out and Cas loses his breath.

Dean makes quick work, though; he briefly lifts Cas as he gets out from under him, staying inside him the entire time. Dean puts down Cas, moving his other arm to push down Cas’s legs. Cas takes the hint, getting on his hands in knees in front of Dean. Dean growls happily, finishing the position by reaching around with one hand to grab Cas’s cock, the other going back to Cas’s hip. But Dean doesn’t need to move Cas again, because he’s already rocking up and down on Dean’s dick.

Dean leans over Cas’s body, stroking his cock as he bites into Cas’s shoulder blade. Cas’s rhythm isn’t maintained any longer, now carefree and wanting.

Dean continues from before: “So you fuck everybody like this?”

Dean’s chest leaves Cas’s back and he starts thrusting, occasionally meeting Cas halfway so their bodies smack together. Cas is moaning, mind landing on the flimsiest excuse he can think of: “You have a good cock. Get over yourself.”

“Oh? That’s all?” Dean thrusts as hard as he can with a grunt. Cas gasps and moans, the thrust knocking him off his hands and on to his elbows. 

Cas growls and rocks his ass back at equal harshness as Dean had, replying through his teeth, “That’s. All.”

Suddenly, Dean’s hand leaves Cas’s cock and completely pulls out of Cas. He gives Cas’s hips a little push and all the contact between them is lost. Cas gasps and starts looking behind him, biting out, “What the hell-”

Dean flips Cas over roughly. Dean’s body is over Cas’s, pinning his limbs with his own before Cas can blink. 

“I want to look at you when you lie to me,” Dean growls. Cas’s trapped cock drools with precum between their bodies, his legs spread around Dean but his ankles are pinned down under Dean’s feet. Cas’s gaping hole twitches against Dean’s cockhead. He’s gasping with want, eyes digging into Dean’s stubbornly.

Dean’s voice is surprisingly even as he demands, “Say I didn’t mean anything to you.”

Cas bites his quivering lip. His eyes waver, but he braces himself and looks back at Dean. He avoids answering, “This is stupid, D-”

Dean’s face doesn’t betray him as he pushes back into Cas. Cas’s words melt into shocked pleasure as he moans out the rest of: “-ean!”

Cas’s eyes have rolled back as Dean bottoms out again. It’s a bit of a burn, with the lube drying, but he still feels on fire with pleasure.

“Look at me,” Dean moans softly. Cas looks back with hateful eyes. Dean starts moving in and out of Cas, slower than their rhythm has been the entire night. It’s like torture, and Cas tries to pull away from Dean’s grasp to no avail.

“Say it,” Dean demands in the same soft tone, his eyes glistening. Cas can only lie there and take the slow push and pull of Dean’s cock, staring into his green eyes hopelessly. Cas can’t find it in him to say anything other than: “Fuck you.”

“Say it or admit that you were lying,” Dean continues evenly, his thrusts getting slightly faster. Cas closes his eyes, able to center himself a little as he begins, “You-”

“No. Look at me and say it.”

Cas bites down on his lip and breathes through his nose roughly as Dean makes his hip movements shorter, buried deep inside Cas. 

“ _Look at me, Castiel,_ ” Dean growls. Cas’s eyes snap back to him, not having enough sense to disobey. Dean’s eyes are pointed, still staring down at Cas’s face only inches away.

Cas swallows, “Maybe,” he begins with a small moan in between as Dean hits his prostate, “Maybe I did once. But that was a long time ago.”

It’s the closest Cas can admit to Dean how much he truly hurt him. The admission seems to be enough for Dean. His eyes blow out and stay open as he leans down to kiss Cas languidly. Cas’s own eyes only half close, mesmerized by Dean’s emotional look.

And then Dean’s lips are gone; he holds Cas’s eyes as the pace shifts back to what it once was. Dean’s thrusts are wild and quick as he pumps into Cas. Cas, trapped under Dean, can only riggle his body and accept the thrusts, moaning more loudly by every pummel against his prostate.

Cas is lost, mind only filled with Dean just as all he can see is Dean’s eyes. He moans unabashedly. 

He’s so swept away by having Dean fuck him that when Dean moves his hands away from Cas’s wrists he doesn’t try to get away, just wraps his arms around Dean’s back and holds on like his life depends on it. Dean grunts happily, letting up on Cas’s legs too, who promptly wraps them around Dean’s waist.

Sweat drips from Dean’s face down onto Cas’s forehead, mingling with his own beads of perspiration. Dean runs his hand through Cas’s hair, moaning, “Lord, you’re so beautiful. Why did you have to be so beautiful?”

Cas can’t answer, doesn’t know how to. All he can do is look deep into Dean’s eyes and moan out pleadingly, “Ah, Dean!”

“Cas.”

“Dean, I’m-” Cas cuts himself off to hiccup a moan as Dean roughens his thrusts, pounding over and over into Cas’s lump of a prostate. He has to swallow and regain some breath before he can finish, “I’m so close.”

“I know, angel,” Dean breathes against Cas’s lips, “Me too.”

Cas doesn’t have the strength to reprimand Dean this time. Instead, the old pet name rips a painful moan out of the depths of Cas’s heart. He closes his eyes, not being able to bear the pain. Dean presses his forehead against Cas’s, whispering, “Open your eyes.”

Cas struggles but manages to do it, not knowing why he’s listening to Dean so simply. But there they are, eyes locked, and both moaning. Dean smirks, “You want to cum at the same time?”

Cas nods shakily, feeling Dean’s skin slip against his. Cas is ready. Dean keeps the eye contact as he bites Cas’s lower lip, growling as boxes Cas’s shoulders in with his arms. Cas grips tightly as Dean thrusts into him faster and harder than they have all night.

Cas’s gives one last long moan, Dean’s breath hitches. His body stiffens against Cas’s as Dean buries to the hilt inside of Cas. Cas is spellbound by Dean’s green eyes as he gives one more rough thrust into Cas, and then he falls over the edge. His eyes squeeze close as the pleasure overflows, hands scratching madly for purchase of Dean’s sweat slicked skin. Cas’s cock twitches wildly between their bodies as warm streaks of cum leak against their chests.

Dean collapses onto Castiel. A moment of silence falls over the two bodies; more like a moment of stillness, the only noise or movement from them is that they breathe at the same tempo and weight as the other. Their bodies are synchronised, but Cas can feel Dean softening inside of him. Soon, Dean swallows his breath and grunts as he pulls out of Cas.

He rolls over to the side of Cas, sighing heavily, “Goddamn.”

Cas slowly opens his eyes, breath now back under control. He stares at his ceiling, marveling at the powerful orgasm he’d just experienced.

He wants to lay there for awhile, soaking in the feeling of having cum drip out of his body. But he feels Dean start to reach over, and Cas sits up to get out of his reach. Wordlessly, he gets up. He stumbles a moment, blood rushing back to his head. 

He looks back at where he had just been next to Dean. He hadn’t realized while they were having sex that they had somehow moved so their heads were at the foot of the bed. He catches Dean’s eyes, staring at him with an unreadable emotion. Cas quickly looks away and stumbles out of the bedroom door.

The light stings as Cas flips the switch in the bathroom across the hall. He runs the faucet cold and splashes the water over his sweaty face. He feels sober, almost pure. 

Cas lets the water drip down as he looks at himself in the mirror. He almost doesn’t recognize the face that stares back; flushed yet relaxed. He can’t remember the last time he looked this relaxed.

Cas roughly shuts of the faucet and looks down at the sink. He doesn’t know what will come next, what he will say when he sees Dean on his bed again.

Cas opens the cabinet behind him and takes out a washcloth. He turns on the sink again and wets it, avoiding his reflection as he wipes down his cum soaked chest and spent cock. He shivers as he wipes the latter, trembling at the sensitivity. But he works through it, cleaning his tender asshole lastly.

Taking a deep breath, Cas hangs the used towel over the sink’s edge and grabs another from the cabinet. He hesitates before he turns off the light and heads back into the bedroom.

Dean is still lying backwards on the bed, his arm covering his face. Cas tosses the towel onto Dean’s body, collapsing on the bed laying the other way. He buries his face into the pillow, hoping beyond reasonability that Dean will quietly clean up and show himself the door.

“Thanks,” Dean says gruffly. Cas doesn’t respond, but feels the bed move as Dean cleans himself. 

The bed squeaks and heaves, and then Dean is next to Cas. He holds his breath, and then Dean’s arms against his chest, bringing him in close.

Cas’s eyes open and he tries to wriggle away from Dean. Dean holds fast. 

“What are you doing?” Cas bites out.

“I want to hold you,” Dean says gently.

“Let go,” Cas whips around to face Dean, trying to push him off. Dean stares at him resolutely, just pulling Cas closer in each time Cas attempts to get away. Dean buries his face into the crook of Cas’s neck and holds tight. Cas huffs defeatedly and just lies there in Dean’s arms. 

They lay there like that. Cas feels Dean’s breath against the sensitive skin of his neck. He blushes, but the blood soon drains. Cas suddenly wonders if Dean will fall asleep like this. He quickly mitigates this possibility, saying, “You can’t stay here.”

Cas holds his breath, wondering if Dean will put up a fight. But he merely sighs, bringing Cas in closer as he complies sadly, “Fine.”

Cas lets go of his breath and relaxes into Dean a bit. Only a bit, though, not daring to let his guard down.

Another moment of shared silence. Then, Dean backs away from Cas’s neck. He positions himself so that he’s looking into Cas’s eyes. Cas looks back steadily, eyes readjusted to the darkness. Dean’s brow looks worried; Cas gulps in anticipation.

“Can I see you again?”

Cas looks away, staring at his ceiling. His mouth contorts, considering it. He shakes his head, “No.”

“So this was another one time thing to you?”

“Yes,” Cas chokes out, “You shouldn’t have thought it was anything more.”

A beat of silence.

“I want to see you again,” Dean says again.

“I’m not going to drop everything whenever you have a second to stop in to town,” Cas stands his ground, glaring back over to Dean, “I’m not one of your lot lizards.”

Dean’s countenance remains the same, despite Cas’s insult. Cas bites his lip and looks back up at the ceiling. 

Dean replies quietly, “I haven’t been with anybody else since last time with you.”

Cas scoffs, “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

Dean’s arms tighten around Cas. He takes a deep breath, and presses on, “What I mean is I need you back, Cas. Somehow, any way you’ll have me.”

Cas blushes, but hides it by saying through a tight voice, “That’s pretty pathetic.”

“Sure,” Dean concedes, “But you can’t deny we have great sex.”

Cas sighs. No, he can’t deny that.

Dean continues, “You really never want to see me again?”

Cas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He’s exhausted, but he needs to make it clear to Dean that he doesn’t want him back in his life. He shrugs, keeping his eyes closed as he says, “I hate you.”

Cas hears Dean’s breath quiver. But Dean presses on, even though it sounds like there is no air left in his lungs, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Cas takes deep breaths, not knowing how to reply. He had been resolved a long time ago that he and Dean’s paths would never cross, so saying goodbye forever now shouldn’t seem any different. But it is. It’s unfathomable. 

“Look at me, Cas,” Dean whispers. Cas pauses, but does as Dean asks, turning his head and opening his eyes. He’s expecting Dean to do something similar to before, ready to lie straight to Dean’s face. But he doesn’t get the opportunity as Dean leans in and kisses him.

Cas hums in protest, but Dean’s mouth is so soft and the kiss so passionate that Cas melts and stops resisting. His own hands, which had been idle at his side, come to life of their own fruition and lightly touches at Dean’s skin. Dean’s arms squeeze Cas and his knee comes up to slot between Cas’s legs. They kiss and Cas can’t remember the last time he’s felt so cherished through something as simple as a kiss.

Dean pulls away, and it takes Cas a second to open his eyes. He feels dazed, as if Dean had just slipped him some intoxicating drug. Dean searches Cas’s eyes, and Cas looks back, helpless.

Dean doesn’t say anything, and Cas feels his heart beating faster every second the silence passes. Finally, he swallows his pride and asks dumbly, “What was that for?”

“I wanted to kiss you how I wanted,” Dean says, thumb rubbing lightly against the piece of Cas’s skin he’s holding, “In case this is really it.”

Cas blushes and feels the fury rage inside him. How dare Dean steal the closure that Cas never got. He never had the opportunity to give Dean one last kiss. And Dean will have that satisfaction if this is truly their last interaction. But that’s up to Cas, and he knows he can’t let that happen. 

Biting his lip painfully, he looks away again and secedes, “Okay. You can come back.” He peeks back up at Dean and adds sternly, “To fuck. That’s it.”

Dean’s eyes light up and Cas has to hold back a pained groan. He continues just as seriously, “But you can’t come to the diner again. And you still can’t stay here.”

Dean nods and a smile spreads across his face. He pushes his face back into Cas’s neck, and Cas hesitantly closes his eyes again.

Silence falls over them again and Cas counts Dean’s breaths. They even out, and Cas gives Dean’s arm a shake, “Hey. I’m serious, you need to get going soon.”

Dean nods, but doesn’t give any sign of letting go. In fact, he presses his face further into the crook of Cas’s neck. His muffled voice says, “I know. Just… Just a little longer, okay?”

Cas sighs, too tired to fight anymore.

“Hey, Cas?”

“What?”

“Do you remember that embankment off of Sonny’s place?” 

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas warns. He doesn’t want to talk about high school, dammit.

“Do you?”

Cas sighs deeply, “I remember. Why?”

A small break of silence. Cas opens his eyes and looks over, even though Dean face is buried in his neck. He feels Dean shaking his head, “I just wanted to know if you remembered.”

Cas swallows thickly, not wanting to read into the soft tone of Dean’s voice with those last words. And despite Cas’s previous demands, he finds himself quickly drifting to sleep tangled up with Dean, thinking about that grassy clearing near the river.

###### 

###### 

“...’And sure, if fate some future bard shall join / In sad similitude of griefs to mine, / Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore, / And image charms he must behold no more; / Such if there be, who loves so long, so well; / Let him our sad, our tender story tell; / The well-sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost; / He best can paint 'em, who shall feel 'em most.’”

“Jesus, was that seriously our homework for history?” Dean asked with an impatient sigh, carving a whistle from a reed with a pocket knife.

Dean and Castiel typically came to the embankment after wrestling practice. It had been a couple of weeks since their tournament, and the team had proceeded to the next tournament that would decide if the team would go to state or not.

Between all of that time, Castiel had been helping Dean study just as he had said. But they didn’t really study as much as talk, relax, or play wrestle. Castiel’s time with Dean had quickly become his favorite part of his day. They kept a fair distance at school (although Asmod and his posse had all but completely let up on Castiel), but outside of it they were practically inseparable.

“Mrs. Doyle is trying to engage us with the sixteenth century England,” Castiel pointed out to Dean, tossing the hand out to the side and rolling over on his back.

“Yeah, well it’s not working,” Dean chuckled, setting the knife aside. He rolled over on his side to face Castiel, propping himself up on his elbow and sticking the poorly carved whistle between his teeth. He continued, “I can barely keep up in my own English class, why does she have to torture us?”

“We just had to read it, Dean, no need to be dramatic,” Castiel chastised, but couldn’t resist smiling over to his friend.

“ _Me_? Dramatic? After reading that sappy ass poem?” Dean scoffed. Castiel rolled his eyes. Dean’s hand thrust down and grabbed hold of Castiel’s arm, “Oh! Abelard! Our love is so forbidden! Woe is our plight!”

The back of Dean’s hand comes up to his forehead and he pretends to faint. Castiel laughed and looked over to Dean, who came to life with a small bow. Castiel clapped sarcastically, “Wow. You should have joined the theater club, you’re really missing your calling.”

“Ah, I didn’t want to make the other students look bad,” Dean joshed back, taking the reed out of his mouth and tossing it next to the knife.

Castiel snorted and Dean joined his laughter. They looked at each other, and then Castiel turned his head to look up at the trees above. 

He thought about something he had overheard today… He swallowed and said, “I heard Amanda confessed she liked you today.”

Dean groaned, “Yeah. In the hall after lunch.”

“What did she say?” Castiel looked over, but Dean was looking off to the river.

“I don’t know, that she’s liked me for a while? Ha, I think she was ready to head to the janitor’s closet or something,” Dean chuckled.

Castiel’s brow furrowed and his head cocked to the side, “And you turned her down?”

Dean looked over to him, a little surprised. Castiel’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Dean cleared his throat and looked off again, shrugging, “I mean, what could I say? She seemed like she wanted to get serious.”

“So?” Castiel pressed on. 

Dean shrugged, “I mean, I probably won’t be here long enough to actually have a real relationship, or whatever. But I’m not about to start hooking up with people, y’know? Town’s too damn small for that crap.”

Castiel blushed, not really listening to Dean after he had said he wouldn’t be here for that long.

“Hey, ground control to Major Tom!” Dean called, “What’s up with you?”

Perhaps Dean could read the worry that had taken over Castiel. He looked to his only true friend and asked, “Do you really think you’ll leave so soon?”

Dean swallowed, “Who knows? It’s what I’m expecting.”

Castiel looked away, trying to breathe through his panic. If Dean left then everything would go back to the way it was. Maybe Castiel could have dealt with that before, but now that he knew what life was like with Dean in it, he knew he could never go back to being content with his old circumstances.

“What’s up?” Dean chuckled, “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Castiel shook his head, sitting up. He looked down at the ground, picking grass idly as he replied quietly, “I’m just concerned for the team, y’know? What if you leave before we go to state?”

“Hey,” Dean said seriously. Castiel looked up and Dean caught his eye, “What’s really up?”

Castiel exhaled deeply and looked at the blade of grass between his fingers. He had learned fairly quickly during his time with Dean that there was little he could hide from him. He shrugged, throwing some grass off down the hill, “I like hanging out with you. I’ll miss you.”

Dean didn’t answer and Castiel’s heart pounded against his chest. Finally, he dared to look over, and was shocked to catch Dean looking back at him. Dean looked away quickly, replying, “Well, who knows? Maybe my dad will really leave me here and I can be a normal kid.”

“Maybe,” Castiel replied, feeling his heart sink.

“I’d fight him if he did come to pick me up,” Dean said suddenly. He turned to Castiel and gave him a smirk, “Don’t want to let the team down.”

Castiel smiled back, not wondering where Dean’s sudden resolve to stay had come from. Instead, Castiel moved on a teased Dean, “Well, if you’re planning to stay then you seriously need to work on your crowding form.”

“Oh? My form is bad, huh?” Dean asked with a cocked brow and spreading smile. 

Dean’s form was great, and Castiel knew it. But he nodded solemnly anyway, replying, “Downright atrocious.”

“Like you’re one to talk…” a gleam flashed across Dean’s eyes, and then he was pouncing on Castiel, “Come here!”

Dean tackled Castiel, but he was able to slide his feet under Dean’s and flip him. They rolled down the hill for a few yards, laughing and yelping as they fought to pin the other one to the ground.

Dean did an actual crowding maneuver and Castiel thudded against the grass. He tried to scramble to get Dean again, but Dean grabbed his wrists and held them to the ground above Castiel’s head, locking his legs into Castiel’s at the same time.

“Dean!” Castiel called through the laughter, “Okay, you got me!”

He was trying to fake Dean out, hoping he’d let up so Castiel could surprise attack him. 

But Dean didn’t let up, and he wasn’t laughing.

Castiel’s own laughter subsided and his eyes began to focus. Dean was staring down at him, a weird expression on his face that Castiel had never seen. He looked confused, staring deeply into Castiel’s eyes. Castiel stared back, getting swept away by how green Dean’s eyes could get. Dean’s lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came out.

Castiel felt Dean lean down, saw those green marbles getting closer and refracting the sunlight from behind him. Castiel shrunk back into the grass, heart thudding in his ears.

“Dean?” Castiel asked quietly.

Dean blinked, as if coming out of a reverie. 

He let go of Castiel, as if just then realizing he had still been holding on to him. Dean rolled over and laid next to Castiel.

“Sorry, I just, uh…” Dean trailed off brokenly. 

Castiel sat up and looked down at Dean, worried, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Dean started and then stopped. He bit his lip and looked at nothing but the sky. He chuckled before continuing, “Ah, I’m not good at this stuff, dude.”

“What is it?” Castiel asked, forcing the voice out of his lungs.

Dean shrugged, “My mom died when I was a kid and Sammy was a baby. Dad’s been a trucker ever since. We just hop from hub town to hub town with him, sticking in motels until Dad finishes his route. And then we’re off to the next town… I don’t have time to join clubs or get to know people, right? And I have to look after Sammy… That’s my _job_. Well, it was. I screwed that up, though.”

Dean swallowed, his last words sounding broken. Castiel is listening patiently, his brow furrowing in sympathy. Dean’s always talked in bits and pieces about his life before coming to Smallville, but Castiel had never pressed him about it.

“Dean-”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Dean cut him off, taking a deep breath. He looked over to Castiel and a gentle smile played on his lips, “You’re like my best friend, Cas.”

Castiel smiled and looked off to the river, much closer to them since they had rolled down the embankment. He replied softly, “You are too, Dean. I’m glad I met you.”

Castiel and Dean sat in comfortable silence. Castiel watched the evening sun’s rays hit the water as it ran by. The light that sparkled off reminded Castiel of Dean’s eyes from earlier, so close and focused. This had become Castiel’s favorite place, and it would never be the same without Dean. Castiel wished that they could stay here, watching the river together, forever.

###### 

###### 

Cas wakes up with a start. He shoots up in bed and squints against the sunrise that streaks through his bedroom window. Blinking awake, Cas looks around to find an empty bed. Dean is gone.

Cas collapses back onto his pillow with a groan. His mind is still heavy from the memory that had haunted him in his dreams.

The bed is cold. Cas wonders distantly how long Dean’s been gone. That train of thought has Cas sporting a headache in no time.

He heaves himself off the bed and winces. Cas is very, very sore. He sits back at the edge of his bed and looks out the window. He blinks and looks down at his clock on the nightstand. It’s already 6:30, Cas has to hurry and head down to the diner.

But he doesn’t leave just yet, his eyes readjusting and noticing something that is typically not there: a torn sheet of paper. Castiel picks it up and sees numbers scribbled on it, under it is written, “Dean”.

Cas bites his lip, realizing that Dean had been serious about seeing him again. 

Cas inputs the number into his phone but doesn’t text him just yet. Instead, he rushes to get ready for the day. On his walk to the diner, he simply messages Dean: “ _Cas_ ”

He doesn’t dare check his phone until after close, after dinner with Jack, on his walk home. There’s a message from Dean’s number and Cas stops in his tracks. He feverishly gets to his messages and reads: “ _have to say i’m kind of surprised you actually texted me. now i don’t have to tackle u down at the diner in a few weeks_ ”

Cas looks up at the empty night, taking in a deep gulp of air. He hadn’t thought getting a text from Dean like that would do this to him. He looks back down at the phone screen, staring at Dean’s message.

He types out and sends: “ _Only text me when you’re stopping by._ ”

Cas starts walking but is only a few paces ahead before his phone buzzes with an alert. Cas doesn’t look, but his pace picks up.

By the time he’s in his apartment, he is reaching in his pocket and opening the message app. Dean’s reply is: “ _i still can’t get you out of my head, though_ ”

Cas throws his phone on to the couch and collapses against the wall, dragging his body down to the ground. He sits and looks at nothing, only thinking of those green eyes.

The last thing Dean had asked Cas last night was if he remembered the embankment. But how could Cas forget? At one point, he had wanted to stay there forever with Dean. Cas’s heart panged, feeling like Dean hadn’t felt the same way. But he had asked, and now that lush green hill and bright blue water is the only thing Cas can think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poem excerpt from 'Eloisa to Abelard' by Alexander Pope


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'something to remember me by' - the horrors - v

The bed’s headboard rhythmically bangs against Cas’s apartment wall. 

“Oh, goddammit, Cas!” Dean shouts, “Shit, baby, you feel so good. How can anyone feel this good?”

Dean thrusts poignantly and Cas moans loudly.

Cas’s hands are pressing against the headboard, knees on the bed while Dean’s fucking him from behind.

“Ah,” Cas moans, “You’re repulsive.”

Dean angles his dick and pounds into Cas’s prostate.

“Aah, Dean!” Cas’s hands clench into fists as he hangs his head, panting in want. Dammit, he’s close to cumming again.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Dean growls, smacking Cas’s ass. Cas’s hard cock bounces between his legs, drooling pre-cum as he works his ass back on Dean’s thrusts.

“Oh, fuck!” Cas squeezes his eyes close as the pressure builds in his pelvis. His breathing is ragged, but he’s able to say over his shoulder, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean says, biting out his heavy breathing. One of Dean’s hands that had been on Cas’s hip, pulling him back on Dean’s dick, reaches around and starts tightly stroking Cas’s cock. Cas can feel Dean whisper against his skin, “You’re going to cum again, huh?”

“Nnn!” is the only response that Cas can get out of himself, moaning and panting unabashedly otherwise.

Dean doesn’t let up, just thrusting into him over and over. So deep. Cas thinks he’s going to go mad. Even when he opens his eyes he can’t see in front of him.

Dean softly kisses the back of his neck, a kiss so soft it doesn’t fit in with the harsh scene. As a point, Dean’s thrusts lose control. His breath is heaving in and out, tickling Cas’s hair and behind his ear.

Their moans mingle, their breathing forgotten. Cas shouts out a warning, “Dean!”

“Oh, Cas!” Dean cries in response. He buries his cock to the hilt inside of Cas.

The tension snaps and Cas cums with a crash. He can hear Dean behind him, his voice stuttering just as his hips twitch.

Cas collapses against the headboard, eyes fluttering close as he tries to gulp in air into his starving lungs.

Dean’s breath is just as lost as Cas’s. Cas feels Dean’s hands slowly trail down Cas’s back before pulling out his softened cock. Cas shudders and gasps weakly.

Cas feels warm liquid roll down his perineum. Dean’s thumb catches it at Cas’s balls and brings it back up to his asshole. Dean hums, “Jesus, Cas. You have so much cum in you.”

Cas groans, “And whose fault is that?”

Dean chuckles and moves his hand away, traveling over Cas’s ass before he falls on the bed next to him. But Cas is still leaning against the headboard, feeling unable to move, even to lay down. 

The two bodies enjoy a shared silence, both sighing with satisfaction.

Cas opens his eyes finally and is relieved that his sight has returned. He looks over his trembling shoulder to Dean, who’s lying with his eyes closed. Cas trepidatiously lowers himself onto the bed, laying on his stomach and burying his face into the crook of his arm, facing away from Dean.

Cas hears Dean grunt before feeling him move on the bed. There’s a sound of rifling and then Dean sighs heavily, “Shit. It’s already five.”

Cas grumbles in response. The latest he has to start getting ready for his day is in another hour and a half, so Cas is already allowing his hazy mind to drift to sleep.

Dean’s hand touches the small of Cas’s back and rubs it gently. Cas’s skin jumps, not even realizing that Dean had moved over to him, his sweat drenched body pressing up to the side of Cas’s. 

“Want to join me in the shower?” Dean purrs.

Irritation twitches through Cas and he shrugs his body, trying to wriggle away from Dean’s touch without looking over to him. His tired voice groans out, “Give me a break. I’m exhausted.”

Dean leans down, his lips trailing against the skin of Cas’s neck as he mutters with a grin, “Come on. You’re filthier than I am.”

“Huh,” Cas replies shortly, moving his head to get away from Dean’s lips, “I’ll clean on my own time, thanks.”

Dean’s tongue finds Cas’s shoulderblade as his hands move down to his hips. Cas angrily peels his eyes open and throws an aggravated look over his shoulder. Dean doesn’t notice, pressing more into Cas’s back.

“Mm,” Dean growls, biting a piece of Cas’s skin, “I want to sleep next to you… But I should have been on the road like thirty minutes ago.”

Cas rolls onto his back with a groan, “Then what are you waiting for?”

The roll broke Dean’s contact and their eyes meet. Dean grins, moving his body over Cas’s. Cas rolls his eyes, trying to hide his blush and possibly sink into the mattress.

A rough kiss on his cheek comes and Cas gasps with surprise. Dean’s fist strikes the mattress beside him and Cas looks over with wide eyes. Dean growls angrily, “Goddammit!”

“What’s gotten into you?” Cas asks in shock.

“You’re so hot it pisses me off!” Dean dramatically groans to the ceiling, sitting up on his knees above Cas.

A laugh escapes Cas, amused at Dean’s spontaneous dramatics. He looks back up to Dean and catches him staring back, totally absorbed.

Cas quickly loses his smile and clears his throat to save face. He blushes because he’s tired. That’s right, he’s tired; it’s not like Dean is funny or charming or anything. He starts to roll back over, “Just go take your shower.”

Dean growls, leaning down and catching Cas before he rolls over. He captures Cas’s mouth in his and roughly kisses him. Cas starts to fight, but his eyes sink close and he falls back into tasting Dean’s lips.

Dean pulls away as suddenly as he had entered, rolls off the bed and struts to the bathroom. Cas watches him leave. When he’s alone, he groans to himself at the sight of the sun peeking over the trees through his window. He rolls over and buries his face into his pillow once more.

Cas is asleep by the time the showerhead turns on.

The morning chill penetrates through to the apartment. Cas unconsciously wraps himself in the disheveled blankets and gives a shudder before melting into rest.

Dean and Cas had been keeping each other warm all night. Dean had arrived at Cas’s around ten the night before and they hadn’t been able to tear themselves from each other until this last round of sex.

Another month and a half has passed since Dean showed up again, marking tonight as the third time Dean’s come to Cas’s place. Last time, they had also spent all night wrapped up in each other. And that time Cas had showed Dean the shower himself.

Halloween had passed with only Jack putting up and taking down decorations at the diner to mark the holiday. Thanksgiving is rapidly approaching, the cold front coming in to join the change of the seasons.

Cas rolls over and light penetrates through his eyelids. He grumbles and puts his hand up. He’s determined to go back to sleep, but his alarm on his phone rings mockingly. Cas fights himself and blinks his eyes open. He half expects to see Dean standing over him. But there is no one. He listens for the shower, or some sound around him. There is nothing. His heart sinks slightly.

Cas pushes himself off the bed, turning off his phone alarm. His phone screen has notifications from Dean. Cas’s heart pounds and he opens his messages. 

There are two texts, but one of them includes a picture, which Cas notices right away. It’s a picture of himself, sleeping under the covers with the morning light on his face. God, he looks old. Cas blushes madly and quickly reads the first text: “ _didn’t want to wake you. I had a great time._ ”

The second text under the picture of himself reads: “ _btw you are really cute when you’re asleep ; )_ ”

Cas’s blush intensifies and he sits up straight. The texts were sent an hour ago, but Cas types out furiously: “ _You shouldn’t take pictures of people without their consent._ ”

Cas tosses his phone across the bed and crosses his arms. He’s irritated by Dean’s compliment and the picture. Irritated because he doesn’t like what it does to his insides, making them ache unexpectedly. 

A text ring comes from his phone and Cas dives across the bed before realizing he is. He quickly readjusts himself, taking a deep breath before looking at his phone. It’s Jack. Cas clears his throat and sits up on his bed.

“ _I don’t feel good… I have a temperature and i’m nauseous,_ ” Jack’s text reads.

Cas sighs and replies: “ _Try to relax in bed. I’ll be over soon._ ”

As Cas types, a message comes from Dean. Cas sends his text to Jack and goes to view Dean’s message: “ _: ( do you want me to delete it?_ ”

Cas sighs; he doesn’t have time for this. He shouldn’t reply, should just get ready and go take care of Jack. But something glues him to that phone, to reply to Dean. 

He types and sends the first thing he thinks of: “ _Just let me know next time you want a picture._ ”

He regrets it almost as soon as he sends it. He resolves to not dwell on it and just get ready. But as soon as he turns off the screen, his phone dings again. He looks and sees Dean’s response. Cas opens it quickly and reads: “ _oh? What kind of pictures will you send me?_ ”

Ugh, he’s so lewd, Cas thinks irritably. But he’s also smiling. He replies instantaneously: “ _Creep._ ”

Dean responds quickly: “ _damn sorry I miss you_ ”

Cas bites his lip, and types out his knee-jerk response: “ _Leave me alone._ ”

Cas waits for a moment, staring at his phone screen. No response. Cas huffs a sigh and locks it again. He drags himself to the bathroom, cleaning and getting ready. 

He returns and pulls some clothes out of his drawers. Laying them on the bed, an object on his nightstand he hadn’t noticed before catches his eye. Cas moves over to it and his heart is in his throat.

Glinting against the spotlight of the warm sun rays is a mixtape. Cas’s shaking hand extends and gingerly lifts the mixtape from its place. Written on the front label in black marker is: “Dean s top 13 Zepp TRAXX”

Cas forgets to breathe. His mind cascades into the memories of last night, and the previous nights, of the first night in the alley; all the things Dean said rattles in Cas’s head.

He shakes himself out of the reverie, setting the tape next to his clothes and rushes to finish getting ready. But before he leaves, he remembers to pocket the mixtape.

###### 

###### 

A gust of wind caught the trees’ branches, shaking auburn leaves to blow up and over in big groups. They ride the wind like waves in the sky. 

Castiel’s mind wandered with the wind, mesmerized by the autumn season. He watched from the window next to his desk in history class as he always did. But gazing out the window had become less of an escape and more for enjoyment. He found the character of the trees far more interesting than whatever Mrs. Doyle had to say.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice shook Castiel to attention. He lifted his head from the hand he’d been resting it on and looked around him. Most of the other kids were meandering out of the class. Castiel’s eyes found Dean standing next to his desk, backpack slung over his shoulder casually.

“You awake yet?” Dean teased. 

Castiel blushed and gave a small smile as he gathered his things, “Oh, yeah. I guess I was daydreaming.”

“Y’think?” Dean chuckled.

Castiel got up and asked, “What did I miss?”

“Beats me, I was watching...” Dean paused, his eyes darting away, “The clock. Ha, Fridays always kill me, y’know? Just itching to get out of here.”

“Sure,” Castiel replied as Dean and him walked out of the classroom. Dean always walked Castiel to his locker after history class. 

Along the way, Dean mentioned, “So I think Ash and I are seriously going to throw that party tomorrow night.”

“Oh, yeah?” Castiel asked, only slightly interested. He knew it was already happening; most of the school was talking about the Sonny Halloween party. Asmod had been boasting about his costume in the locker room earlier, and Dean had mocked him a little. The tease had gotten a small chuckle out of Castiel. 

Dean befriending Castiel had made high school a lot more bearable; namely that there were no more bullies to avoid. But another reason Asmod and his gang weren’t tormenting Castiel anymore was that Ash had stopped hanging out with them. Instead, he and Dean had become good friends. The idea had never sat right in Castiel’s gut, but he’d never expressed this to Dean. 

Dean and Ash were both at Sonny’s, were the same grade, and Ash had introduced Dean to the wrestling team; it was natural that they would become close. Still, Ash knew a lot about everyone in the town. Castiel tried not to think about what Ash and Dean had talked about…

“Yeah. Was thinking maybe you’d want to help us set up?” Dean asked. Castiel looked over and caught Dean smiling at him expectantly. Castiel quickly looked away; he’d never been to a party, didn’t even know what to expect. But he didn’t want to let down Dean either. 

He ducked over to his locker, giving Dean the quickest excuse he could come up with, “I don’t think I can… I have to look after my siblings.”

“Oh, come on, it’ll be way past their bedtime,” Dean begged, leaning against the other side of Castiel’s locker. Castiel opened the combination and started pulling his books out.

Castiel bit his lip, knowing it was a lame excuse. Even Anna had expressed to him earlier that week that she wanted to go to the party. 

Castiel stared at the darkness of his locker and muttered what was truly digging at his heart: “Nobody will want me there.”

“I want you there.”

Castiel looked over and caught Dean’s shining eyes. Castiel blushed and turned back to his locker, biting harder on his lip to keep the smile at bay.

He threw out one last excuse, “Don’t you think it’ll be awkward with Ash?”

“Yeah, about that…” Dean trailed off. Castiel could hear a mischievous tone. 

He sighed and closed his locker, turning to Dean with a cocked brow, “What?”

Dean shrugged, trying to hide his excitement. Castiel saw this and waited. 

“Ash got some beer and stuff for the party. We were going to do a ‘quality check’ tonight,” Dean grinned, “Want to come?”

Castiel wriggled uncomfortably and crossed his arms. His eyes trailed off… Drinking alcohol, possibly getting drunk, with Dean and Ash. Hanging out. It was a lot to process. And even getting there… He’d have to walk in the dark. And he’d never even thought about a curfew before.

“Do you drink?” Dean’s question cut through Castiel’s racing thoughts. 

He managed to roll his eyes as he leaned against the locker too, responding with as much sarcastically as he could, “Oh, yeah. All the time.”

Dean laughed and Castiel watched his face. Dean caught his eye and frowned dramatically, “Ash is kind of expecting you too.”

Castiel hesitates to let his guard down, “He is?”

“Yeah. He says he doesn’t really know you. We’ll all just be hanging, it will be really relaxed. You don’t have to drink,” Dean continued. Castiel was somewhat shocked. He’d known Ash since he’d arrived in Smallville in middle school. Still, it was true that Castiel didn’t know Ash very well either.

“Mm…” Castiel scuffed his foot against the ground, “What time?”

“Is that a yes?”

Castiel looked up at Dean with reluctant concede. 

Dean’s smile grew toothy and he joked, “Cool! Peer pressure does work!”

Castiel laughed. 

Dean said, “Meet me in the school parking lot at eleven? I’ll walk us the rest of the way.”

Castiel nodded and let his smile linger. 

Castiel thought he saw Dean’s eyes soften for a moment, but then they suddenly hardened and Dean looked around the hall. Castiel did too, quickly becoming aware that most of the students were gone.

“Ugh, I’m going to be late to class,” Castiel groaned, pushing off the locker. He paused, turned back to Dean, not being able to help adding, “You really are a bad influence.”

“Ha!” Dean laughed, surprise in his eyes. 

Castiel smiled back, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you.”

Castiel drifted down the hallway and nearly missed his classroom door that the teacher had already closed.

###### 

Castiel gave himself another once over in the mirror of his darkened room. He’d wanted to change from his school wear, but didn’t want to make it seem like he was trying too hard. Castiel opted for his black boots instead of sneakers, and untied them for the fourth time.

The lights were off in his room because everybody was asleep and Castiel had opted to sneak out instead of asking permission from Lucifer. Besides, Luci had already left to go out with his friends for the night.

The time was flying towards ten-thirty and Castiel tied his last laces. He stood and made sure his bedroom door was locked before turning to the window. He opened the latch, perched himself on the edge of the windowsill, and braced himself for what the night would bring.

With one last deep breath, he hopped onto the roof’s ledging under his bedroom window. His room was in the back of the house, and the roof wrapped around to also provide a cover for the back porch on the first floor.

Castiel looked around, trying to figure out how to safely get down. He tiptoed to the corner where the pillar holding up the freestanding end of the roof was. He got down onto all fours and realized for the first time how much he was shaking from nerves.

His feet trepidatiously hung over the edge, wrapped around the pillar, and then Castiel let go.

He barely caught onto the pillar. He took a deep breath before beginning to shimmy down. But his footing slipped and Castiel fell the rest of the way. He landed with a thud onto the grass below. 

The wind was knocked out from him, but the fall hadn’t been too harsh. He got up, rubbed at his sore tailbone, and began to walk away from the house. But only a few paces away he whipped back around, his mind reeling. 

He wondered in stupid awe how he had forgotten about getting back in. He couldn’t just walk in, and he doubted that he could climb back up the pillar he’d fallen from. Biting his lip and beating himself up, he sighed and continued walking. He’d already gotten out, there was no use worrying about something he’d already messed up.

Still, the worry followed him all the way to the parking lot. He wasn’t paying much attention, eyes trained to the ground. A force collided with him. He gasped in surprise, but two hands came to grip his shoulders and steady him. Castiel was dazed when his eyes found Dean in the dark.

“Ha! Did I scare you?” Dean joked.

“Dean,” Castiel warned, brow furrowed. He had really given him a fright. 

“Damn, sorry,” Dean chuckled, “You ready to go?”

Castiel’s eyes found the ground, his worry still not subsided. He shrugged, “Yeah, sure.”

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Dean asked.

Castiel’s eyes roamed to the side. He felt stupid for not thinking of how he’d get back in after sneaking out. Castiel shook his head, “No. It’s nothing.”

Dean’s arm wrapped around Castiel shoulder and the worry is replaced by a different, stranger set of nerves. Dean starts them walking, saying, “Good! C’mon, can’t keep Dr. Badass waiting.”

“Who?”

Dean chuckled, “You’ll see.”

Castiel nodded, resolving that he’d leave his re-entrance into his house for later. Castiel looked over to Dean who was smiling and looking out over the parking lot. They passed under a lamp and Dean observed aloud, “Doesn’t the school look way different at night?”

Castiel looked around the barren lot. He nodded, “Yeah, kind of.”

“Like, we can do anything here!” Dean ran forward a distance and Castiel watched as he did a haphazard cartwheel. Castiel laughed and clapped softly.

“Are you trying to get into gymnastics?” Castiel asked teasingly, “Because you might want to practice.”

Dean raised a brow, “Oh, you think you can do better?”

Castiel looked at him and suppressed a smile. He hadn’t mentioned to Dean that he helped Anna practice for cheerleading. But now was as good a time as any to show him.

Castiel turned his back to Dean, took a deep breath, and did his flawless back handspring into a backflip.

When he landed, he was facing Dean again. Dean’s jaw had gone slack and he was staring at Castiel dumbfoundedly.

“What?” Castiel asked innocently.

Dean came back to life, “What the hell, dude?!”

Castiel let a small, accomplished smile across his face as he turned on his heel. He hopped from the asphalt to the grass on the side of the road. He could tell Dean was still behind him, so he called out, “I thought we had a doctor’s appointment?”

He heard Dean huff and his footsteps follow as he caught back up and walked by Castiel’s side.

###### 

Dean led Castiel along the road, past the entrance to the embankment they frequented, and to the main entrance of Sonny’s. 

Along the way, Dean had explained the rules of some game called Kings Cup. They had shared jokes about some of the more stupid rules and Dean had to explain to Castiel several times why people even would partake in such a game. Overall, the walk had done a lot to improve Castiel’s mood.

But as they started up the dirt drive to the front of Sonny’s, Dean shushed them and grabbed Castiel’s wrist. He pulled them off the road and off to the side. They quietly walked around the back of house to a smaller, secondary unit connected to the main house by a screened-in walkway.

Dean opened the side door of the building to Castiel. Light spilled out and Castiel squinted against the contrast as he entered. The room opened up to a big den area with couches, a coffee table, foosball table, and rugs spread across the floor.

Castiel heard the door close behind him as he took in the room. He felt Dean’s hand pat his back as he came to stand next to him. He said, “Welcome to the den!”

“It’s nice,” Castiel nodded, turning to Dean, “You live here?”

Dean chuckled and his hand slowly slid from Castiel’s back. He shook his head, “Nah, not me. I’m in the house.”

Castiel was about to reply when the door they had just come from swung open. A girl with long, straight blonde hair and fair complexion strutted in with armfuls of bags and six packs. It took Castiel only a few moments to recognize her as Jo Harvelle.

“Jesus, it’s getting cold out there,” Jo exclaimed as she used her foot to kick close the door, “Little help here!”

Dean and Castiel moved forward to unload. As Castiel took a bag away from her, Jo caught his eye and she gave a big smile.

“Castiel?!” Jo said as she set down the last of the beer, “Holy shit, is that really you?”

“Hey, Jo,” Castiel said, blinking as she pulled him into a tight hug.

“You two know each other?” Dean asked.

Jo chuckled and punched Dean in the shoulder, “Uh, duh! Hello, you’re the new one in town.”

Castiel was only expecting it to be Dean and Ash, but out of all the people that could have shown up he was glad it was someone he knew from childhood. He smiled, “How’s Ellen?”

“Ugh, same old overprotective mom crap,” Jo said with a heavy sigh, “I don’t get how you could homeschool a kid but then have them working in a _bar_! I swear to god, I am sooo ready for a drink!”

“Then it’s time to call the doctor!” Dean said with a smile. 

Jo rolled her eyes and looked over to Castiel, “God, these guys. So immature.”

Jo and Castiel followed Dean to a door Castiel hadn’t noticed at first that had a wooden sign hung on the front. The sign was wooden, handmade, with black paint that read: “DR. BADASS IS” And then a smaller sign underneath that said, “IN”.

Dean walked up first and Castiel followed him closely. Dean turned to him and cleared his throat, “Cas. We talked about this. Personal space.”

Castiel looked at the small distance between them, glanced over to Jo, and muttered, “Sorry.”

He backed up.

Dean exhaled, readjusted and knocked, calling out, “Hey, Dr. Badass!”

The door swung ajar and a strobe light was the only illumination to a completely nude Ash who pressed his face and body to the opening. All three of them huffed and moved their eyes away from Ash uncomfortably.

He sniffed harshly and looked at all the face, “Dean, Cas and Jo. Jo, Cas and Dean.”

“Yep, we’re all accounted for,” Jo said to the ceiling, “So let’s fucking get it going.”

“Well, hell then,” Ash said with a straight face, “Guess I need my pants.”

He grinned at them and closed the door again. They all quickly moved away from the door. Castiel followed Dean to the sofa and sat next to him as Jo walked back to one of her bags.

When Jo approached them, she first slammed down four shot glasses on the table. Dean and Castiel looked from the glasses up to her. Castiel gulped thickly as she held up an unopened handle of vodka with a broad grin.

“Buckle in, boys,” Jo purred.

“Jesus, Jo,” Dean choked out, “Can’t we just start with a beer or something?”

“Nuh-uh,” Jo said, cracking open the jug and starting to pour out shots, “Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Liquor before beer-”

“In the clear!” Ash finished, coming out of the other room fully dressed, “Yeah! Let’s get this party started!”

Ash went over to Jo’s side and put his arm around her shoulders, “Thank youuu, sweet Jo, for this beautiful array of drank!”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek and she shoved him so roughly he fell backwards onto the couch opposite the one Dean and Castiel were seated at.

“Gross! Hands off!” Jo said, kicking his shin as she walked past to sit on the other side of him, “And you’re welcome.”

She was the first to lift the glass up, then Ash and Dean, and finally Castiel lifted his as well.

“Cheers! To one hell of a Halloween pre-game!” Jo called.

“Cheers!” Dean and Ash said in unison. Castiel nodded awkwardly and followed as the other three tapped their shots on the table before lifting them to their lips and drinking. Castiel watched Dean for a moment before he began swallowing his.

The alcohol was… A lot better tasting then Castiel was expecting. He figured he’d cough or make a fool of himself, but he took the shot down fairly well.

He was the last to set his small glass on the table, and when he did Jo immediately refilled it. Castiel looked around and saw that he was the only one with a refill.

Cas began to ask, “Why-”

Jo was already answering him though, “Last person to cheers has to take another shot.”

Castiel looked over to Dean, but he was no help. He shrugged and said, “Sorry, house rules.”

Castiel sighed and eyed Jo before he lifted the drink to his lips and knocked it back. This one tasted even smoother than the last, so Castiel wasn’t too unhappy about this unknown rule.

Castiel set back down the glass and Jo hollered, “Woo! Yes, Novak, yes!”

“Novak?” Dean asked.

Jo shrugged, “Novak, Kline, whatever. But _I_ knew Castiel when he was still a Novak.”

“Both are solid names,” Ash said with a nod, as if he had seriously considered the matter, “Very secret agent-y.”

“How is the new step-mom? And dear dad Chuck?” Jo asked conversationally, sitting back.

Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes on him and he cleared his throat, scooting his shot glass into the middle of the coffee table as he dodged the question, “How about another?”

Jo chortled, “Holy crap, dude! Are you real?”

“You just took two shots,” Dean said, “You’re not even feeling tipsy?”

Castiel sat still for a moment and took in his faculties. His heart rate had curiously decreased since people had joined him and Dean, but otherwise he felt the same. He shook his head.

“Well, then!” Jo said with a smile, pushing back up and lining the shot glasses in a row, “How about a Harvelle fire line? I even brought an extra glass.”

She got up and went back over to her bags. Castiel was a little nervous; Dean hadn’t explained this drinking game. He looked over to Dean, caught his eye and asked, “What is a fire line?”

“Dear Dean and I will demonstrate,” Ash replied for Dean, sitting up and rubbing his hands together as Jo came back over to set the other shot glass next to the other four.

“It’s simple,” Jo explained, pouring vodka to the brim of each glass, “Two people go toe to toe taking shots. Whoever goes first takes as many shots as they can. No breaks, no pausing, and it only counts if you drink _all of it_. The next person tries to take more. Whoever takes the least has to chug a beer.”

“Come on! Let’s do this thing!” Ash groaned, holding out a fist to Dean. Dean met his gaze and threw out a fist too. They bounced their fists up once, twice, and on the third Dean’s threw out a sign for scissors.

“Rock beats scissors, dude,” Ash cackled, “You go first.”

“Ergh,” Dean grumbled, “Okay, okay. Everybody step aside.”

The group chuckled, but Castiel’s eyes were trained on Dean as he lifted the first glass up and then downed it. Dean quickly slammed the empty glass upside down and took the second in line. He drank it, put it on the table upside down, and took a third. He started drinking it but coughed and set it back down.

“Ah ha!” Ash laughed, “Two’s all ya got? Now really watch out, y’all.”

Jo quickly refilled the glasses and Ash almost immediately grabbed for them. He slammed three upside down and sighed with satisfaction as if he had just had a tall glass of water.

“Drink it, bitch!” Ash called as Jo laughed and tossed Dean a beer.

Dean rolled his eyes and caught Castiel’s look. He smiled and shook his head. Cracking open the beer, foam started overflowing.

“Quick! Drink it! Shit!” Jo and Ash shouted as Dean quickly began drinking down the beer. He chugged it all, Jo and Ash egging him on all the way. 

Dean let the empty can down and crushed it in his hand, exclaiming breathlessly, “Goddamn!”

“Well, at least you know how to chug,” Ash commented disappointedly. Castiel figured he wanted something else to tease Dean about. But instead, he turned to Castiel with a grin, “Your turn.”

Jo laughed, moving the line of shot glasses over and refilling them, “Sorry, Castiel. Another rule is that there’s no going easy. Get ready to chug.”

Castiel met her gaze, “Whatever you say.”

She held out her fist and Castiel did the same. They bounced them twice and on the third Castiel threw out a paper sign and Jo’s hand was a rock.

“Shit!” She said with a sigh, “You pick who goes first.”

“Hm,” Castiel considered, “You go first.”

Jo groaned as Ash laughed, “Damn! Kid’s got technique!”

Jo shook her head and sat up fully, cracking her knuckles, “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

With lightning speed, Jo picked up and down one, two, three, _four_ shots. Castiel gulped.

She sat back with a shit-eating grin and said mockingly, “I’ll go ahead and get your beer ready.”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean encouraged, “If you match her shots then you both have to chug.”

“Don’t pressure the baby!” Ash laughed.

Castiel took a deep breath. He peeked up to Jo, who raised an expectant brow, grin still plastered on her face. She crossed her arms.

Castiel looked back down at the line of shots. They weren’t so menacing…

A quiet had fallen over the small group, and Castiel felt the pressure. It was the same pressure he thrived in when he was in the ring against an opponent. Owning that feeling, he took the first shot.

It went down easily, and Castiel only stumbled a little to flip it upside down before he took the next. And then the next. And the next. Dean and Ash cheered as Castiel downed the fourth. Then, silence again as Castiel took the fifth and last shot just as easily as he had the others.

The glass’s rim clinked as Castiel gently set it upside down on the table along the others. He took a breath and looked around. Everyone was staring at him with awe and worry. Castiel swallowed, pushing back the blush that threatened his cheeks. He felt as if he had done something wrong.

Everybody was still staring at him, so Castiel said to fill the space: “I think I’m starting to feel something.”

A laugh choked out of Ash, and soon Dean and Jo followed. Castiel didn’t see what was so funny, but he was glad that at least he hadn’t made a social faux-pas.

“Oh, shit, Dean,” Ash said through his laughter, “You were right, he _does_ have a sense of humor!”

Castiel wanted to follow that train of conversation, but Jo was saying to him, “Oh my god, Castiel! If I knew you could hold your own you would have been my drinking partner a _long_ time ago!”

Ash started laughing all over again, “What? You’ve only been drinking like a year!”

Jo blushed, “Says you! Ugh, you see what I’m working with here?”

“Stop stalling and chug already,” Dean chimed in. Jo gave him a look but cracked open the beer that was made for Castiel. She chugged it as much as she could, but some spilled out of the corners of her mouth and soon she was coughing.

“Oh, Jesus, and you’re whining about _me_?” Ash chortled.

“Shut up,” Jo said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and throw out some Kings Cup?” Ash retorted.

A grin spread over Jo’s face and she joshed, “Finally, Ash says something smart.”

She got up and went around to another bag. As she was rifling through it, Dean turned to Castiel, “Hey, you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Castiel’s body was way warmer than before, and he was feeling slightly dizzy, but he was sitting down and it was cold outside so none of that seemed to matter. He shrugged, “Yeah. Should I not be?”

“Leave him alone,” Ash said to Dean. He leaned in and was looking at Castiel, “Dude, that was epic. You are _so_ on my drinking team at the party.”

Castiel eyes squinted and he tilted his head in confusion. He didn’t quite follow what Ash was saying, but it sounded good. And it felt nice to be wanted.

Castiel didn’t get a chance to ask Ash anything else though as Jo came back and tossed a pack of cards onto the table.

“We don’t have to explain this game, do we?” Jo asked Castiel as she sat back down.

Castiel gave Dean a quick glance and said, “No, I think I’m good.”

“Great!” Jo said, putting a red solo cup in the middle of the coffee table and spreading the cards around it. She handed everybody a beer as Ash chatted to Dean about some television show.

“Okay, focus up. Castiel, or Cas, whatever,” Jo slurred, “You’re reigning champ so you go first!”

“Alright,” Castiel replied, taking a card from the pile. He announced: “Two.”

“Oh, good one,” Jo said, “Who’s your victim?”

“Mm,” Castiel thought, trying to remember the rules Dean had told him on the walk over. The memories were all fuzzy, though. Still, he rolled with it and gestured to Ash randomly.

“Ah, fuck you, man,” Ash chuckled as he opened his beer and drank. 

Jo laughed, “Nice. Dean, it’s all you.”

Dean readjusted and drew, “Hm, ten… Oh, I got it.”

Dean shot Jo a dirty grin as he said, “Wrestling.”

“Fuck you!” Jo shouted.

Ash laughed and said, “Okay, neutral.”

“Oh fuck, okay, um…” Jo stalled, “Argh! Top!”

“Wow, we’re really rubbing off on you,” Dean noted.

Ash nodded, “Very impressive wordage.”

Jo smiled and turned to Castiel expectantly. Castiel came to life and said, “Crowding.”

“Bottom,” Dean added quickly.

“Pinfall,” Ash said and turned to Jo. She was sweating, looking around, “Um, um… Grabbing… Someone? Ugh, I don’t know!”

They all laughed at her attempt and Jo took a drink. 

Ash’s laughter subsided and he drew a card. He smiled at Dean and without a word stood up and busted a cool kick dance move. Jo got up and did the kick move plus an arm wiggle. Castiel got up in turn and followed their movements, adding quick finger guns in Dean’s direction. Dean sighed and got up. He tried the kick move and did the finger guns but Jo and Ash’s laughter cut him off, “The friggin’ arm wave, dude!”

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, falling back on the couch and taking a drink, “I friggin’ hate bust a jive.”

“Newsflash,” Jo chuckled, taking another card, “It hates you too.”

They all laughed. Jo looked at her card and lit up, “Eight! Dean, you’re my mate.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Ash said to Castiel with a raised brow, as if he was supposed to be in on something with him. Jo elbowed Ash.

Castiel pulled another card and furrowed his brow. He couldn’t remember what seven was, so he said it aloud, “Seven.”

Nobody replied, everybody’s hands just shot up in the air. Castiel looked around, confused. They all burst into laughter and Castiel blushed.

“Dude! Seven is heaven! Last person to-” Ash was laughing so hard he had to take a break from his words, “Last person to raise their hands drinks!”

Jo was laughing as hard as Ash was, “And it was _your_ card!”

“Oh,” Castiel chuckled and drank. That was pretty silly of him.

Dean drew, “Ace! Waterfall!”

Dean started chugging and all the others followed suit. Dean put down the beer first. Ash kept going, eyeing Jo from the side. He put down his beer and she quickly followed. Castiel was the last, but he found all his beer was gone.

“Ah,” he observed, “I think I need another.”

“Fuck dude, _please_ lend me your tolerance!” Jo whined.

“It’s seriously inhuman and I, for one, am fucking here for it,” Ash added. He chuckled and pulled another card. His brow raised and he looked around as he slowly flipped around the card, “Queen! Now things get interesting.”

Ash’s fingers tapped against the card as he eyed everyone individually. Castiel couldn’t help feeling somewhat nervous; this was a card he remembered Dean explaining because it had worried him even back then. The card was all about questions, and that was something Castiel didn’t deal with well.

“Cas,” Ash targeted. Castiel tried to keep calm. Ash gave a friendly smile and asked plainly, “What’s it like being gay?”

“Oh, Jesus, Ash, can you not?” Jo chastised.

“Yeah, what the fuck, man?” Dean added.

“What?! It’s just a question!” Ash defended. He turned back to Castiel, “So?”

“That’s not fun, Ash,” Dean turned to Castiel, “You don’t have to answer him.”

But suddenly Castiel felt fired up; he appreciated people standing up for him, but he didn’t need it. Castiel shrugged, “Well... It’s kind of hard to answer. I don’t know.”

“But you’re gay, aren’t you?” Ash asked. Jo and Dean looked back at him with worry but some degree of interest. 

Castiel shrugged again, “Yes, but I don’t know what to tell you about it.”

“Haven’t you been with a guy?” Ash continued.

Castiel shook his head. Ash gaped in surprise, “Then how do you even know you’re gay?”

Castiel took a deep breath but maintained his eye contact with Ash, “Well… You’ve never been with a girl, so how do you know you’re straight?”

Jo and Dean burst into a surprised laughter. Castiel tried not to feel too pleased with himself.

“Oh, good one, Cas,” Dean said while wiping away a tear.

“Yeah, you taught his ignorant, virgin ass,” Jo cackled. 

But Ash was studying Castiel very seriously, nodding, “No, man, actually… You gave me a lot to think about. Damn.”

“And it only took you being a total asshole and three extra questions,” Jo rolled her eyes.

Ash turned to her, “Okay, your turn then, miss perfect.”

Jo shook the hair out of her face and pretended to think. Then, she sent a controlled smile to Dean as she asked, “Dean. Is there anyone you like?”

Castiel looked over and saw Dean staring at his beer. His thumb rubbed at the perspiration, and he didn’t look up as he replied, “Yeah.”

“Who?!” Jo asked excitedly. 

Dean took a deep breath and looked at her with a smile, “Nuh-uh, I’m not answering more than one question.”

“Argh! You’re no fun!” Jo sighed and slumped into the couch.

“Cas,” Dean said, looking over to him, “Your turn.”

Castiel took a deep breath and racked his brain. Everything he thought of sounded lame and weak compared to the previous loaded questions. Instead, he looked around, shrugged, and took a drink. Everybody laughed.

Jo pulled another card, “Jack! Never have I ever, oh yeah! Keep the good times rollin’.”

“Ah, you know Castiel’s gonna win this one,” Ash groaned.

“Were you just born a piece of shit or did somebody hurt you in the past?” Jo asked.

“Well, it’s true!” Ash looked over to Cas and raised his beer, “But you’re with us now. We’ll fix your rap sheet in no time.”

Castiel gave a small smile and raised his beer back to Ash. Everybody raised their beer and drank in a quick cheers to their new friend.

###### 

Dean had insisted on walking Castiel home. Jo had made a snuff about it. She’d drunkenly complained that Dean had never offered to walk her home. But when Ash had offered to take her in Dean’s place, she’d said she was quite alright by herself.

At the time, Castiel had been pleased to spend some alone time with Dean so he could unwind. But Dean stumbled for the fifth time and Castiel grabbed onto him so he wouldn’t fall off the road. He worried over him and said, “Dean, you should really go back. I know how to get home.”

“No, I’m fine!” Dean yelled way too loud. 

Castiel pulled him in closer, “Shh! Keep your voice down. It is nearly four in the morning.”

Dean giggled and let his arm fall over Castiel’s shoulder as he leaned into him. His breath tickled Castiel’s neck as he said, “You talk kind of funny, you know that?”

Castiel sighed, “That’s it. I’m taking you ba-”

Castiel tried to turn them both around but he himself stumbled and lost his balance. Dean and him hit the asphalt with a thud. Castiel grunted as he looked over to Dean whom was rolling over on his back and laughing. Castiel laid on his back and started laughing too.

Their laughter quieted as they both looked up at the sky, speckled with stars.

“You really want me to go back?” Dean’s voice asked quietly.

“It’s not like I want you to,” Castiel replied to the sky, “I’m just scared you’ll get hit by a car on your way back or something.”

“Yeah, this is a heavily trafficked road, you know,” Dean chuckled as they lay in the middle of the lane.

“Then you’ll fall into a ditch. I don’t know,” Castiel said, refusing to let up, “Something bad will happen to you.”

“That’s why I’m walking _you_ home,” Dean replied quickly, “God, you’re acting like it’s my first night drinking and not the other way around.”

“To be fair, you do seem slightly more inebriated than me,” Castiel observed.

“Oh my god, yeah, what is up with you being an extreme heavy weight by the way?” Dean laughed, “I was sitting there thinking, like, ‘what does it take to get this guy?’”

Castiel chuckled nervously, “You were disappointed?”

“What? No,” Dean said quickly, “I had so much fun tonight, are you kidding me?”

Castiel smiled to himself. He looked over to Dean and saw Dean looking at him. Castiel lost his smile at Dean’s confusing expression, but neither of them moved away.

“So can I take you home?” Dean finally asked. 

Castiel sighed and looked back up at the sky, “Well…”

Castiel suddenly remembered that he didn’t even know how the hell he was going to get back into his room. But now it was the end of the night and he really had to think about it. Which was hard, because his brain didn’t seem to be working right.

“You have that same look,” Dean began, “That same look from earlier tonight.”

Castiel bit his lip. He lifted the back of his hand to cover his eyes to hide his embarrassment, “Ugh. I snuck out without thinking about how to get back in. I need to get back on the roof somehow.”

Dean started laughing so hard Castiel had to look over.

“You’re laughing at me!”

“It’s funny!” Dean said, looking at the sky. He shook his head, “This is ridiculous… Why don’t you just stay at Sonny’s with me?”

Castiel blushed and looked back up at the sky. He didn’t know why that thought made his heart pound, and it scared him. He shook his head, “No, I need to make breakfast in the morning. Nobody knows I’m not there.”

“What about your dad? Or your step-mom?” Dean asked. 

Castiel took a deep breath, “My dad is on a book tour again. My step-mom lives in a different town.”

“Then who’s watching you guys?”

Castiel had to take a steadying breath. Nobody had ever asked him these questions before, and he never realized how emotional it made him. He replied nonetheless, “Technically, one of my older brothers. But he’s not very good at it. Naomi is so busy with college stuff, Anna’s so young…”

“So you take care of everybody?” Dean asked after Castiel paused to catch his breath. 

Castiel repeated himself, “I need to make breakfast in the morning.”

“I understand,” Dean said, rolling onto his side. Castiel looked over to him. Maybe Dean did get it, maybe he was the only one that ever could. Dean sat up, “I’m going to make sure you get back in tonight. I promise.”

“Dean…”

“Come on,” Dean got up with a grunt, steadied himself, and offered Castiel his hand, “We sure as hell can’t sleep here.”

Castiel smiled and took Dean’s hand. Dean pulled him up and Castiel wavered for a moment as all the blood rushed to his head. He stumbled and Dean held on to his hand to help him steady himself. Castiel stood up straight and caught Dean’s eye, they both laughed. Dean let go of his hand and they walked along.

The stumbled together along the road and then Castiel was leading the way into his neighborhood. Dean kept asking him his address and Castiel kept repeating it to him. He didn’t understand why, just chalking it up to drunken stupor.

Finally, they approached Castiel’s house. 

“What was your address again?” Dean asked loudly.

“Shhh!” Castiel whispered, “It’s right there!”

“Oh, okay,” Dean whispered back. He followed as Castiel walked them into the shadows and around the back. The driveway was on the side of the house where the porch light was illuminated, and Castiel wanted to stay far away from it.

They came to the back of the house and Castiel pointed up to his window, “I need to get up there.”

“Oh, that’s not as bad as I thought,” Dean whispered back, fingering his chin in contemplation, “We could-”

“Let’s get away from the windows while we talk,” Castiel interrupted, pushing Dean to the corner of the backyard. They could see the back of the house and the driveway, but it was far away enough so that Castiel felt comfortable that their voices wouldn’t wake anyone. 

“I was saying that I could just give you a foot boost. Do you think you could grab on and lift yourself up?”

“Sure, but what about the gutter?”

“Fuck the gutter, grab past it,” Dean started to chuckle.

“What is it?”

“I just imagined you grabbing the gutter and it, like, make a loud noise as it broke,” Dean had to stifle his growing laughter, “Shit, that would suck.”

“You either have a very active imagination or are very drunk,” Castiel observed.

Dean shrugged and wiped a tear from his eye, “Eh, maybe a little of both.”

Castiel blushed and kicked at the ground. He looked back up at Dean and said, “You know, you could stay here too. I’m still worried about you walking back alone.”

“I said I’ll be fine, besides,” Dean replied, “Sonny would kill me if I wasn’t there in the morning. And Ash is waiting up for me any-”

“Wait,” Castiel cut him off and looked behind him. A truck’s engine was rumbling towards them, and Castiel could see a pair of headlights illuminating down the street. No doubt it was Lucifer.

Castiel heart pounded anxiously, “Oh no, that’s my brother.”

Castiel looked around and spied the nearby tree. He rushed over to it as the truck pulled into the driveway. Castiel looked back quickly and saw Dean just staring at him. He grabbed Dean’s jacket and pulled him to the tree. 

“What are we-”

“Be quiet, he’ll hear you.”

The engine rumbled idly in the driveway and Castiel’s mind went into overdrive. The tree trunk wasn’t too thick, he had only enough space to press his back against it as he pulled Dean in, and then Dean had to stand in front of him and not beside him to be concealed. But Castiel wasn’t thinking about how close they were, his head turned to listen and concentrate on the truck.

He reached around to peek his head out just as he heard the truck door open and close. Castiel snapped his head forward. He pressed his back hard against the tree, wishing he could melt into it. He looked up to see Dean still at least a foot away from him. Castiel tugged at Dean’s shirt again and brought him in closely. 

“Cas-”

“Sh!”

Dean moved in as Castiel pulled him, but stumbled and put his arms on either side of Castiel, their mouths at each other’s ears. They were chest to chest, and if Castiel’s heart wasn’t beating so fast then he would have been able to feel Dean’s beat at the same pace.

Castiel listened intently to the sound of his brother’s stumbling feet drag against the pavement.

“Bye, Lily! Don’t die, ha!” Castiel heard Lucifer call loudly. Keys jingling, the truck revving and pulling out, and a door opening and slamming shut. Castiel cursed Luci if he woke Samandriel up. The lights of the truck passed them, and then Castiel and Dean were thrown back in to darkness.

Castiel sighed and let go of Dean’s shirt, not realizing he had been holding his breath or onto Dean. Castiel shook his head in embarrassment. Dean was probably going to laugh at him again for acting so ridiculous.

But Dean’s breath was shallow and he only moved back slightly when Castiel had let him go, arms still on either side of Castiel. Castiel shook his head and whispered more softly than he had all night, “Sorry about that. I was scared.”

Dean didn’t say anything. Castiel looked up, suddenly extremely concerned that maybe he’d angered Dean somehow. 

Dean was staring at him with that same confusing expression, but intensified. Castiel lost all his words, just looking at that face. It was the same expression as he had on the embankment that one day, and also earlier. His brows were furrowed, eyes focused yet so distant, but face somehow relaxed in quality.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered gently, “I think we’re fine n-”

Dean’s lips were suddenly against Castiel’s, swallowing the last of his words and the small noise of surprise. At first, Castiel thought it was a mistake (perhaps Dean had tripped forward or something) and so he kept his lips lax. But Dean wasn’t letting up, and Castiel’s care quickly melted away. He let his own eyes slip closed and pressed back against Dean’s lips with his own. 

Just as Castiel began to react to Dean’s kiss, Dean jerked away. Castiel gasped and opened his eyes wide to look at Dean’s face, still so close. Castiel stared at the blatant fear drenching Dean’s eyes. Even when Dean finally cracked a smile, trying to laugh it off, and moved his arms away, the fear remained.

“Ah, sorry,” Dean started in a shaky, low tone, “I don’t know what got into me. I guess I have had a lot to drink after all.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel choked out, not really sure if it was okay.

“It didn’t mean anything,” Dean continued, eyes moving to the side, “I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel repeated, deciding then that he didn't care how he felt about it as long as it would make Dean feel better.

Dean peeked back up to him, saying, “I told you you’re my best friend and I meant that.”

“I know.”

“So,” Dean seemed really scared, “We’re still friends?”

“Of course,” Castiel replied, eyes unable to move away from Dean, “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dean said with a huff of fake laughter. He bit his lip and stepped back some more. Castiel kept his back on the tree, not sure if he was going to be able to ever move again.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and asked, “You’re still going to come help with the party, right?”

Castiel nodded. He took a deep breath and his loose tongue said, “If Ash can keep his hands off me.”

Dean barked out a real laugh, but then bit it back as both he and Castiel looked up at the house. Castiel chuckled, amused at their mutual fear. Dean laughed more quietly at them both. He lightly punched Castiel’s shoulder, “C’mon, let’s get you on that roof.”

Castiel nodded, pushing off the tree and following Dean with shaky legs.

They got to the corner of the patio where Castiel had shimmied down the pillar earlier. Dean crouched and interlaced his fingers, but he wasn’t looking at Castiel anymore. Castiel worried slightly, but approached Dean and put his hand on his shoulder as he placed his foot into the hands. Dean gave a heave, and Castiel reached up with both hands, able to grab onto the ledge of the roof with the extra boost. 

With a small grunt, he pulled himself up by his arms and got his legs onto the roof.

“You alright?” Dean’s whispering voice called out. 

Castiel got onto his stomach and looked over the edge, whispering back, “Yes, I’m good. Thank you.”

“Okay,” Dean made no sign of leaving, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel replied, “ _Please_ get back safely.”

“I haven’t let you down yet, have I?”

Castiel smiled and Dean smiled back.

Dean whispered one last goodbye, “Goodnight.”

Castiel pushed away from the edge and got up on his unsteady feet. He slowly tiptoed back to his bedroom’s open window and crawled in, sliding the window closed behind him. 

The room was dark and chilly, yet welcoming to Castiel and his long night. It hit Castiel how very drained he was as he tried peeling off the clothes he had so carefully chosen for tonight. He didn’t even care to change into pajamas, just slammed face first into his bed with only his underwear on.

Castiel closed his eyes and felt more drunk then he had the entire night. He wondered idly if the exhilaration of having fun was what had kept the inebriation at bay. No matter, he smiled at how Jo and Ash had reacted to him tonight. They seemed to have enjoyed his company, and that was new for Castiel.

Dean had been great tonight. Caring, excited, engaged… And he’d kissed Castiel. Dean had said it hadn’t meant anything, and Castiel wanted to believe the same. But regardless, that had been Castiel’s first kiss. Although he would have liked it to last longer, be more mutual, or not be under pressure of the circumstances, Castiel actually didn’t feel that bad about it.

It’s because it was with Dean.

Castiel’s eyes snapped open at the realization. He’d liked how Dean leaned into him, liked the feeling of his soft lips against his own.

Castiel wriggled his body as he felt the pooled heat in his pelvis expand to his cock. He hadn’t had an erection in a while, but he wasn’t going to start jerking off to his best friend. In the end, the kiss had been a mistake on Dean’s part. Dean didn’t like Castiel, and Castiel was ashamed that the kiss had ignited a fire in his heart for the other.

Drifting into a dazed sleep, Castiel resolved that he would get over the fantasy of kissing Dean again. Castiel cherished Dean’s friendship more than anything, and he wasn’t going to jeopardize that over his hormone fueled desire. Still, it also didn’t stop him from drowning himself in the throbbing sensory memory of how Dean’s lips felt against his.

###### 

###### 

“Will you stop sulking and go home already?” Hannah snaps at Cas.

Cas looks behind him to Hannah who is _trying_ to actually close the diner while he is just daydreaming out the window. Cas looks back to the window, “I’m not sulking. It stopped snowing, that’s all.”

“Yeah, right. The snow stopped like half an hour ago and so did you,” Hannah groans, “You’ve been down in the dumps all day. Jack’s in bed and we’re almost done here. Just go, would ya? You’ve been depressing the hell out of me all day.”

Cas sighs and secedes. He should really be thanking Hannah, but her pushing him out only verifies that his emotions are taking control. The idea was to take his mind off of Dean by working, but Hannah pointing out that he wasn’t really working was a visible mark that nothing could take his mind off of things.

Cas hasn’t heard anything from Dean in over a month. Christmas is right around the corner, and not even a single text from Dean. 

Cas has especially been going crazy this past week. He finds his heart pounding whenever he spies a patron even somewhat resembles Dean. Even whenever he notices a black cab of a semi-truck pull into the back from the diner’s window; he holds his breath until the driver walks in and he sees it’s not Dean.

The snow may have stopped, but it was still very cold outside. Cas considers buying another truck. But a quicker solution would be to go warm his body with alcohol. He started heading towards the roadhouse bar and texted Meg as he went. She replied fairly quickly that she’d meet him there.

Meg was Cas’s drinking buddy for over a decade now, and although she’d tried to kiss him a couple of times, Cas considers her one of his best friends in the small town. They are two completely different people, but when they’re sharing a handle of tequila they mingle better than anybody Cas has ever met.

The motel she manages and lives at is much closer to the roadhouse than the diner is, so she is already seated at the bar when Cas arrives.

“There he is!” Meg calls as Cas saddles into the seat next to her. She slides him a shot and beer she’d ordered for him. 

Cas lifts the shot and says, “Thanks. Cheers.”

She lifts her own, half-sipped shot. They clink, hit the bartop, and throw it back. Meg hisses and woots, but Cas just starts chasing it with the beer. He doesn’t stop until it’s more than three-quarters gone.

“Fuck. You must really be in a bad way tonight, huh?” Meg observes with a smirk.

“Something like that,” Cas says, gesturing to the bartender for another.

“Like what?” Meg asks, drinking her own beer to keep up.

Cas shakes his head and stares at the amber liquid of his remaining drink, “Nothing… It’s a stupid problem. I just need to get over myself, that’s all.”

“Hm,” Meg hums as the bartender drops off two more, “And does this ‘problem’ happen to go by the name of ‘Dean’?”

Cas spins around so quickly in his barstool and fixes Meg with the most shocked, terrified expression that he doesn’t even need to verbally answer. Meg starts laughing and shakes her head, “Oh man, you are in trouble.”

Cas has never told Meg about Dean; or _anyone_ in this small town, for that matter.

Cas groans, knowing he can’t save face at this point. He starts on his next beer, “Who else knows?”

“Oh, just anybody Met talks to,” Meg grins. Cas wants to die; Met was the town gossip and had a talent for spreading rumors like wildfire. 

Cas is devastated, “How?!”

“Does this sound familiar?” Meg asks before loudly and rhythmically pounding her fist against the bartop, calling out in a mockingly rough voice, “‘Oh, Dean! Dean, yes! Dean, you’re going to make me-’!”

“Yes, alright! You’ve made your point!” Cas quickly interrupts, grabbing at her hands to still her.  
She laughs uncontrollably, “Oh my god, you poor, fucking idiot! Didn’t you even think about Met being your neighbor in those shit-tastic, paperthin apartments?”

“No. I was a little preoccupied,” Cas drinks down half of his second beer to cover his blush.

“Hahaha, ew,” Meg drinks with him, “So if you’re getting it so good why are you sad?”

“I’m not sad, I’m just…” Cas sighs heavily, “I think I got dumped.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, he’s a trucker-”

“Double ew.”

“Hey, truckers have a rough job and do a lot, okay?”

“Woah, okay, mister defensive.”

“I’m not- Argh!” Cas exclaims, “What I was trying to say is that I only see him like once or twice a month. And we mainly just, um, we just…”

“Fuck.”

“Basically,” Cas drinks the rest of his beer and signals for another.

“And what does Jack think of Dean?”

Cas bites his lip and mutters, “He doesn’t know. Neither of them do.”

“Wait, wait,” Meg cuts in, “Dean doesn’t know about _Jack_?”

Cas shakes his head.

“Wow! That sounds so healthy!” Meg laughs and drinks. She waves down the bartender to make it two.

“I want to keep Dean as far away from my personal life as possible,” Cas drinks.

“Okay, but you care if he leaves you?” Meg points out.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Cas feels defeated.

“And how’s that? He told you he found some better tail or something?” Meg asks ever so delicately.

Cas rolls his eyes, “No. It’s just that, I haven’t heard from him in over a month.”

“Tss, that sucks.”

“Yeah. It _does_ suck…” Cas admits. He drinks half his beer, slams it down and exclaims, “And I hate that it sucks! Damn him to hell for making me worry!”

“Oh, you’re worried now?”

“Well… I mean, what if something happened to him? It’s not like I would know…”

“So he hasn’t been answering your texts?”

Cas remains silent.

“Calls?”

Cas bites his lip again.

“Pager, pigeon carrier, smoke signals? Hell you know what I mean!”

Cas sighs, “I haven’t… I haven’t _really_ tried to contact him…”

“Ha! You are some piece of work, Castiel,” Meg drinks. 

Cas whips his head towards her, brow furrowed, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe he thinks you dumped him, dummy! Or got disinterested. I mean, Jesus Christ, you guys might not make a poster for best relationship but if you actually care at all then you should at least try to contact him right?”

“Ya up on ‘ur high horse again, sister?” a low, sonorous Louisiana drawl slurs over Meg’s last words.

Cas and Meg turn to her back and see Benny Lafitte stumble up to the bar. He gestures to the bartender, “‘Nother, boss.”

“I suggest you stuff it, jackass,” Meg replies coolly. Benny looks at her just as evenly. She continues with a smirk, “You really trying to piss off the owner of the only place in town that lets your sorry ass check in? Because you can sleep in your cab tonight. Oh, or are you headed for the tank again, y’think?”

“Night is young, sweetheart,” Benny says. The bartender brings Cas and Meg’s drinks and starts making Benny’s classic long island. Meg drinks her beer but eyes Benny from the side.

Benny turns to the bartender, “Hey, Rufus, what do you make o’ all this?”

Benny thumbs at Cas and Meg beside him and Rufus takes a quick glance before continuing to make the drink. He says clearly and casually, “I think he should just call him.”

“Right? Thank you, Rufus!” Meg exclaims, turning to Cas with finality, “Although, I would just text him. Y’know, try to play it cool?”

“What? No! You can’t express yourself completely over some message,” Rufus points out.

“That’s exactly my point!”

Meg and Rufus go back and forth about Cas’s dilemma as if he weren’t sitting right next to them.

Cas is aghast. He’s a little dumbstruck that Rufus, the faithful bartender, had been listening and was now weighing in on Meg and his conversation. And also that Meg was feeding into it. Again, it hit him how all his life these small towns never got sick of knowing other’s business.

This attitude quickly shifts as Cas hears Benny’s rumbling laughter. 

Cas and Benny never got along. Benny was just a trucker who frequented staying in Bootbock. There were one too many times Jody had to scrape his ass off the floor.

Cas drank and tried to ignore Benny as he called out to him, “Always took you for a straight shooter, Cas. Can’t ‘magine you with some guy.”

Rufus and Meg shut up as Cas slowly turns to Benny. He doesn’t answer him, just looking at his mocking countenance.

Benny pushes off the bar and swaggers over to Cas. He comes up behind Cas’s back and presses his chest to him, “It’s real funny… ‘Cause ‘ur like, the girl, right? Hahaha!”

Cas stands up and forcefully pushes back on Benny. He mutters to Meg as he walks away, “I’m going to get some air.”

“What?” Benny asks through hiccuping laughter, “I’m not your type?”

Cas ignores him, ignores Meg too as she calls out after him, “Cas! Cas, c’mon!”

The brisk chill of the December night hits Cas’s flushed face like a welcomed ton of bricks. He takes a deep breath and lets the frigid air sting his lungs. The air has a note of cigarette smoke. Cas wrinkles his nose and looks around.

An older patron is leaning against the brick wall of the roadhouse’s facade, smoking and minding her own business. Cas sighs and leans against the farther wall. Cigarette smoke reminds him of his college boyfriend. Suffice to say, it’s not Cas’s favorite thing.

He looks off into the pitch black sky and wonders when he’ll stop letting associations with bad relationship rule his outlook. He didn’t want to see Dean everywhere he went, thought he had left that kind of delirium back in college. 

Cas ponders Meg’s brief outlook; he wonders if he should try to contact Dean. He takes out his phone and goes to his messages with Dean. He sees the last text he sent: “ _Leave me alone._ ”

Cas groans aloud and quickly zips his mouth. He shoots a look over to the woman smoking a cigarette; she didn’t seem to notice. He sighs and then returns to the phone screen. He beats himself up about his message; he’s scared Dean had taken it to heart.

Still, he had meant it when he had sent it. Also, he couldn’t deny that his attitude when he was with Dean could be construed as hostile… Alright, he was downright hostile.

Rufus’s own words surface to Cas’s mind. Perhaps Dean does deserve an earful, and Cas would really enjoy giving it to him.

Cas goes to Dean’s contact page and hits the call button before he loses his nerve.

He stays strong as the line rings, but his heart starts to go haywire as it keeps ringing. 

“ _This is Dean, you know what to do_ ,” the voicemail tells him. 

Cas hangs up.

###### 

“Thank you, Cas! I love it!” Jack gushes over the bike with a big bow on it.

“Merry Christmas, Jack,” Cas replies and lifts his phone, “Let me take a picture.”

Jack poses with his thumbs up and a big smile in front of the bike and tree. Cas smiles and takes a couple of pictures. His smile moves from the phone to his son.

Jack turns from the bike to Cas, his brow furrowed, “It didn’t cost too much, did it?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Cas replies, “I’m just glad you like it.”

Christmas has always been a rough time for the tiny family. Cas has been resolute to keep the diner afloat, but some times were hard for him. Cas couldn’t always give Jack a large Christmas, but the year had treated them well and this holiday Cas had wanted to give Jack good memories.

By Jack’s own request, Cas and him had put up trees at his loft and Cas’s apartment. But on Christmas Eve, Jack had stayed at Cas’s and they opened presents there. The bike was the last present, something Cas had been hiding in the “guest room” (Jack’s old room, a space just big enough for a twin bed and a small closet space with no door). 

“Want some breakfast?” Cas asks.

“Yes, please,” Jack says excitedly, “May I have some coffee?”

Cas laughs, “You drink coffee now, hm?”

“You do it!” Jack defends. Cas raises his brow, but Jack is smiling, “Please?”

Cas sighs, “Alright.”

Jack and him stand up and move to the kitchen, “One cup. You really shouldn’t be getting into caffeine at your age.”

“Do you think one cup will hurt?” Jack asks, genuinely concerned.

Cas chuckles, filling the kettle with water, “No, it wouldn’t hurt.”

Cas relaxes as he makes coffee. Jack starts getting out dishes, pans, and ingredients, saying, “I’ll make pancakes! Oh! You have chocolate chips? Chocolate chip pancakes, yes!”

Cas reflects on how nice it is to finally feel good after being depressed the past few days. He’s never heard back from Dean. And no matter how much Cas wants to deny it, Dean is really getting to him. 

The rest of the Christmas day continues with watching cartoons together and eating more. Jack and Cas enjoy each other’s time, and Jack has one more cup of hot chocolate before he dozes off to sleep on the couch.

Cas gets up, gently lays Jack’s head down on a pillow, and covers him with a blanket. He leaves the television on as he tiptoes to the kitchen and gets out a beer. He shoulders on a coat and quietly steps out front.

Cas sighs and leans against the railing, cracking his beer open and taking a sip as he looked over the Christmas night.

His mind easily slips into consideration of calling Dean again. Cas knows it will probably make him spiral from his rare good mood, but then again, he was always good at torturing himself.

“Well, hello! Merry Christmas to you this fine night, Castiel,” Met’s voice cuts through the still night. Cas looks over. Met is at his own door next to Cas’s, dressed in shabby clothes and with an armful of bags.

“Happy Holidays, Metatron,” Cas replies indifferently. He turns away from Met, hoping that will be the last of it.

“Enjoying the holiday night, I see?” Met continues. 

Cas looks down at his beer and sighs.

“Not doing so well since you've lost your boy toy?” Met asks in a mockingly sad voice.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Cas snarls over his shoulder.

“It’s probably for the best,” Met goes on casually, fishing out his keys slowly, “You were keeping me up all night!”

“Will you just leave me alone?” Cas asks and drinks again.

“That depends,” Met grins, “Will you ever move out?”

Cas eyes squint dangerously, “I don’t like you.”

“Likewise,” Met smiles, “Goodnight.”

Cas watches Met enter his unlocked door and only whirls back around to his beer when the door is shut. 

Well, now he felt like shit anyway. Cas pulls out his phone and stares at Dean’s number. 

This is stupid. All he needs to do is press a button and say words. Cas’s vision blurs and takes a deep breath. He’s been here before, on the edge of contacting Dean and then bailing. But it’s Christmas, and Cas wants to call Dean. 

He hits the call button and sucks in a breath as he brings the phone to his ear. 

It rings… Rings… “ _This is Dean, you know w-_ ”

Cas hangs up. He clenches his phone, cursing himself.

He takes a deep breath and looks out into the night again, contemplating throwing his phone as far as he can.

Another deep breath and Cas opens back up his phone to his messenger. He furiously wonders why Dean isn’t answering him. He thinks that he’s done something wrong, pushed a little too hard. And then he questions why he’s even trying; he didn’t even want Dean back in his life in the first place, so how could he make such an impact on Cas’s mind…

Yes, afterall, these thoughts are familiar to Cas by this point. He’s run around them day and night ever since he’d realized Dean might not be coming back.

And here Cas is, texts from Dean and him staring him in the face. He has the means to chase after Dean, to give himself his own closure. Screw it if Dean doesn’t want to talk to him again. Cas deserves some answers!

Cas’s thumbs come to life and righteously types out a block of text that furiously reprimand Dean for not answering, not calling back, for leaving him, for-

Cas quickly selects all, and deletes. He sighs and looks away. His eyes fall upon Met’s door. He bites his lip and turns back to his phone screen. 

With less than full surety, he types out: “ _Merry Christmas, hope you had a good one._ ”

Cas only reads it over once before sending it. The message delivers. Cas holds his breath.

Nothing. 

Cas shuts off his phone, hanging his head and slumps over the railing. He chugs down the rest of his beer, and turns his back on the night.

He’s about to head in when his phone starts buzzing. Cas heart pounds and his feet still. He pulls out his phone to see that Dean is calling.

Cas almost misses the call because he’s so shocked, but he finally finds his wits and answers as casually as his beating heart will allow: “Hello?”

“ _Cas?!_ ” Dean’s voice stutters excitedly.

“Dean,” Cas bites his lip, ready for excuses and heartbreak, “H-”

“ _Oh my god, I was hoping it was you!_ ” Dean gushes.

Cas blushes, “You were?”

“ _Ah, did you try calling a few days ago?_ ” Dean asks curiously.

Cas’s blush intensifies… He doesn’t know where Dean is going with this; might even call him out. But Dean’s voice are setting his nerves to alight for him to reply with anything but the truth, “Y-yeah…”

“ _What? Why didn’t you leave a voicemail, dude?_ ” Dean groans, “ _I thought you were a scam caller or something!_ ”

“But,” Cas begins, vision getting hazy, “Why would you think that?”

“ _Ugh! My phone got totally DEMOLISHED like a month ago_ ,” Dean explains, “ _And how was I supposed to know about the cloud, or whatever?_ ”

“Oh…” Cas feels foolish.

“ _I was starting to think you wouldn’t contact me_ ,” Dean chuckles nervously.

Cas’s blush returns, “Well… I did.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Dean’s voice says softly, “ _I’m glad you did._ ”

Cas smiles to himself. He takes a deep breath as the silence spreads over the line. 

“So wh-”

“ _Sorry-_ ”

They both start at the same time. Another beat of silence, then Dean is chuckling and Cas allows himself to smile again, “You go first.”

“ _Oh, I was just going to say sorry, y’know, for not answering._ ”

“It’s okay.”

“ _Ha, yeah, sure. Well_ ,” Dean clears his throat, “ _I’m, um, I’m in California with my brother, Sam, right now._ ”

“Alright,” Cas feels a sudden lump in his throat.

“ _I mean, but I have to come get my rig in Sioux Falls soon. I could leave early… Come by your place?_ ”

Cas sucks in a breath, “When were you thinking?”

Dean chuckles, “ _I don’t know… Tomorrow night?_ ”

Cas’s heart pounds, “Maybe. I think there’s an airport in Marysville.”

“ _Oh, no, I don’t do planes_ ,” Dean quickly points out, “ _I can just drive there._ ”

Cas’s brow wrinkles, “What? That’s too far. What’s the rush?”

Cas can hear the atmosphere on Dean’s side change as wind and cars come through. Dean’s voice is more hushed now, “ _I want to see you._ ”

Cas hadn’t realized he was gripping the railing. His knuckles were white and red.

Dean continues, “ _I miss you._ ”

Cas gives himself a moment before his voice chokes out: “Well, I’ll be here tomorrow night. You can come whenever.”

“ _Yeah? Great_ ,” Dean breathed, “ _I’ll let you know when I’m close. You know, now that I have your number again._ ”

Cas tries on a smile, “Okay.”

“ _Hey, um, by the way_ ,” Dean starts meekly, “ _Would you send me that picture of you again? I lost it too._ ”

Cas blushes wildly, having forgotten about the sleeping picture of himself Dean had taken. His eyes shifts and he kicks his foot against the ground, “You really want that?”

“ _Yeah, really_ ,” Cas can hear Dean’s smirk, “ _Is that creepy?_ ”

Cas owns his blush, “Yes. But I’ll send it to you anyway.”

Dean laughs genuinely, “ _I can’t wait to see you. Merry Christmas, Cas._ ”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

###### 

The diner opens again the day after Christmas. Despite it being busy, Cas feels as if he drifts through the day. His mind is far off, in a world that dares to fantasize about the future.

By the time he gets home and is cleaning himself, he feels the real anxiety of hopeful anticipation settle in. Things are never as one dreams, so Cas asks himself why he had dreamed so _much_.

He is nervous now, looking forward to something so condemning as Dean Winchester. There is no time for all that, though, as a knock comes at Cas’s door. 

He hurries to zip up his pants as he paces himself to the front door (he’s pretty sure he stumbles a little, although he hasn’t had anything to drink). Cas opens the door and only remembers to breathe after he and Dean lock eyes.

Dean is wearing a flannel, buttoned down with a dark shirt. He’s clean shaven, eyes bright as he leans against Cas’s door jam in the dark.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Cas blushes and looks down.

Dean pushes off the door frame and starts stepping in, saying breathlessly, “Can I come in?”

Cas barely has time to mutter out, “Sure.”

Dean is closing the door behind Cas’s back and pushing him against it. Cas loses his breath, swept away because he hadn’t been looking at Dean. But now Dean is right in front of his face, arms on either side of him.

Cas stares at Dean’s lightly stubbled throat. Dean’s breath tickles his cheek, “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not-”

Dean softly kisses Cas, and Cas quickly succumbs. He hums softly and deepens the exchange, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist under his flannel. Cas feels Dean’s hand stroke his cheekbone and the other cup his neck.

Cas’s shock of their quickly united intimacy melts under Dean’s touch. Dean breaks away and presses his lips against the side of Cas’s face, groaning, “God, I missed you, Cas.”

“Mm,” Cas presses his body against Dean’s, “Dean…”

Dean shudders, “Why, Cas? Why can’t you tell me you missed me too?”

Cas’s breath stutters. He just wants to taste more of Dean, not talk. But he lets go a little, whispering gruffly against Dean’s ear, “I missed you too.”

Dean slams their bodies back up against the door, pulling away to press his forehead against Cas’s. Cas gasps, eyes on Dean’s swollen, parted lips. But Dean keeps pushing Cas away every time he moves to kiss him. 

Finally, Cas gives up and looks up into Dean’s eyes. Cas can’t find his breath, totally mesmerized by the look on Dean’s face. Even when Dean sinks forward, their eyes only half close as their lips work together.

Their eyelids slip all the way closed as Dean’s tongue slides against Cas’s. 

Cas is more satisfied by feeling Dean’s lips against his than by any other. The realization crashes over him, and his hands grip tight against the skin under Dean’s shirt. 

Not a lot is clear about he and Dean’s future. But one thing is for sure, and that is Cas will be especially loud tonight.

###### 

“Ah! Jesus, Cas! What the fuck!” Dean moans loudly. Cas is even surprising himself at how roughly he’s taking Dean’s cock.

Cas and Dean had only managed to stumble to the kitchen before they both couldn’t take it anymore. Cas’s pants were crumpled at his ankles, bent over the kitchen countertop. Dean is behind him, pants unzipped and pushed down over his erect member. His hand has pushed up Cas’s shirt most of the way, nails digging into his bare skin. 

Dean’s other hand is uselessly gripping Cas’s hip. Useless because Cas is roughly smacking his ass back on Dean’s cock, breaths ripping from his mouth.

The hand from Cas’s hip moves to smack his ass, “ _Fuck!_ ”

Cas moans, fingers slipping against the counter’s surface as he picks up the pace at Dean’s slap. He cocks his head to yell over his shoulder, “Yes! Yes, like that!”

Dean growls and his hand scoops under Cas’s leg and pulls it up. His leg is momentarily caught on his pants, but Dean helps push it off so he can properly hook his arm under Cas’s knee.

Cas is glad he’s limber, because this position allows Dean to push another inch or two into him. The extra depth burns somewhat, their only lube being saliva and the fact that Cas had just cleaned, but the burn is welcomed. Cas’s hand reaches back and grabs around Dean’s neck for stability.

Cas hangs his head as Dean starts pounding in and out of Cas. He moans, “Oh, Dean! You’re so deep inside me!”

Dean’s hip stutter with his breath, “Oh, Cas! Your mouth, ah, your voice!”

Cas feels his precum drip down his hard cock. He looks over to Dean and says between his moans, “What about it?”

Dean’s lust blown eyes hungrily take in Cas’s face. The hand that had been at Cas’s back comes up to touch Cas’s lips and push two fingers into his moist, ajar mouth.

Cas watches Dean’s throat work as he starts to say, “Your mouth is- fuck, so soft. And your voice- AH!”

Dean exclaims, his hand moving down from stroking Cas’s mouth to gripping his throat. Cas feels his cock jerk in want. Dean thrusts in all the way and grinds. The combination of feeling Dean so deep and being choked nearly sends Cas over the edge.

“And your voice is really deep. I love it.”

Cas moans loudly, the only warning he’s able to give as his gut is punched and cum starts spilling out of his cock. Dean quickly lets go of Cas’s leg - which collapses down beside Dean’s - and grabs tight at the base of Cas’s cock. 

“Shit,” Dean hisses, “You’re cumming already?”

“I-” Cas swallows his words as Dean’s hand moves from his neck to tug at the back of Cas’s hair. He starts to vigorously thrust in and out of Cas. Cas’s spent cock is still hard and drooling over Dean’s hand.

Cas pushes back, “I want you to cum in me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean growls, his thrusts losing rhythm.

“Yes!” Cas begs.

“God! You’re dirty, you know that?” 

Cas nods.

“Say it.”

“Nnn! I’m dirty for you Dean!” Cas moans, letting his head be pulled back from Dean’s grip, “I want to feel your cum in me!”

“Oh, angel!” Dean moans, slapping Cas’s ass.

“Harder!” Cas demands.

Dean roughens his thrusts and hits Cas’s ass with his hand once more, causing a loud clap and a real sting. Cas moans enjoyably.

“Ah, you’re so fucking filthy!” Dean weeps, “You’re so fucking perf-!”

Dean pushes in all the way and his voice croaks. Cas pushes his ass back, wanting nothing more than to have Dean cum in him as deeply as possible. Dean grunts and locks up.

Cas feels like a pile of mush as Dean comes back to life, pulling out and flipping Cas around. He doesn’t even put up a fight as Dean kisses him passionately. Cas’s arms merely drape over Dean’s shoulders - still clad with his t-shirt, albeit sweat stained. 

Cas lazily tugs at the back of his shirt, bringing it over his head and breaking the kiss.

Dean stares at Cas after the shirt’s fallen to the ground. He smirks, “Thanks.”

Cas doesn’t smile, doesn’t respond. Dean is close now, and Cas takes in his face with deep breaths.

Dean’s face softens, smile waning, “What?”

Cas’s hand comes up, his knuckles stroking against Dean’s slightly stubbled cheek. He sees Dean leaning into his touch, his eyes droop close, and Cas pulls away, “You shaved.”

Dean looks surprised for a moment, then gives a toothy grin, “You like?”

Cas nods, saying seriously, “Very much.”

Dean takes a deep breath and Cas observes his pupils dilate. Dean pushes Cas into the edge of the countertop, “You look good. But you always look good.”

Cas blushes and looks away. He can barely stand to look at himself in the mirror, much less accept a compliment. But Dean distracts from that, leaning down to press his lips against Cas’s neck.

Cas’s blush intensifies as Dean says against his skin, “Damn, I needed this… Needed you.”

“Please don’t talk like that,” Cas’s heart aches and his cock starts to stiffen against Dean’s thigh.

Dean’s thumbs are pressed against Cas’s hips as he stoops over further to nibble at Cas’s collarbone. Cas sinks against the countertop, leaning back and submitting.

Dean bites his bone and holds tight as Cas jumps, “Why don’t you like hearing me talk about how I feel about you?”

Cas shivers, “I don’t like what you do to me…”

Dean takes a deep breath and presses their chests flush together, lips moving behind Cas’s jaw. Dean whispers to that space of skin: “Then why did you call me?”

Cas’s hands grip tight at the counter’s edge. Dean’s arms wrap around his torso. Cas can’t admit to Dean that maybe there's a slight chance he needs him too. He won’t even admit it to himself. Last time he was vulnerable with Dean, he broke Cas’s heart.

Instead, Cas maneuvers his head to capture Dean’s lips. He refuses to let up, wanting to taste Dean for as long as he can. Cas feels Dean’s dick harden against his own. Cas moans. Dean breaks free of the kiss, but Cas doesn’t let him go far. Dean asks against Cas’s lips, “Can I stay here?”

Cas licks into Dean’s mouth as confirmation. He’s tired of talking. Cas had been dreaming of Dean staying the night, but neither of them getting much sleep. Cas allows a sliver of hope to shine over the night.

Dean’s hands roam over Cas’s body and come to squeeze his ass. Cas gasps against Dean, eyes half open, “Mm, I liked it when you hit me.”

Dean’s eyes are still closed, ducking down to lick Cas’s throat, “I could tell, baby.”

Cas gyrates his trapped, hard cock against Dean’s. Dean moans, Cas smiles.

“Fuck me again,” Cas says.

Dean’s arms weaken and Cas slips against the counter a little.

“Oh, Cas,” Dean moans, “Dammit, you’re nuts.”

Dean and Cas slowly collapse to the floor, tangled up in one another. Connected at the mouth, they kiss and hold each other as their semi-naked bodies make it to the ground.

Dean spits on his hand and moves it to Cas’s asshole. They moan together. Cas feels Dean’s lips smile against his, asking, “Will we ever make it to the bed?”

Cas sighs as he pushes down on Dean’s fingers, “Maybe tomorrow.”

Cas kisses Dean and they fall into each other as the night passes by.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'inside out' - spoon - they want my soul

Castiel watched frost grow across the windowpane. He wondered if it would snow soon. Castiel looked over to the rapidly sinking sun; the days were getting shorter.

“Go, go! Go! Ah!” Lucifer shouted at the television in the living room. The football game was blaring, but Luci’s voice still cut through loud and clear, “What the hell is going on with dinner?!”

Castiel’s consciousness snapped back and rushed over to the sizzling chicken on the stove before it burned.

Anna swung into the kitchen with Samandriel on her hip, “Hey, Castiel. Need help?”

Castiel moved a pot to the backburner, “No, thank you, I’ve already got it going. Anyway, you should be studying.”

“Actually,” she smiled, Samandriel tugging at her hair, “I was hoping you would study with me? After dinner.”

“I can’t, Anna,” he bit his lip and put the bread in the oven, “I told you, I have practice tonight. State is only five days away.”

“But my test is _tomorrow_!” Anna whined. She set their younger brother down and he began running around the dining table.

Castiel washed some dishes he needed, “I understand, but Coach Singer gave me the keys. Nobody can practice if I don’t go.”

Castiel kept his eyes down. That was true, Coach had entrusted Castiel with the keys to the gym and locker room so him and some teammates could practice after hours. Everybody had gotten really excited at getting into state, and it seemed like they stood a chance at going to nationals; that’s why everyone was willing to put in the extra hours.

But Dean would definitely be at this night practice, and that made Castiel’s heart race more than any sport’s competition.

It had been a month since the night before the party. As Castiel expected, Dean hadn’t brought up their drunken kiss. But although Dean was jovial and inclusive as ever with Castiel when they were in a group, he and Dean didn’t spend any time alone anymore. Everytime people were leaving, Dean would leave with them.

The embankment had iced over and the once soft, lush green grass had withered to a brittle amber for the winter. Castiel couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone there together.

“This is so unfair!” Anna shouted.

“Unfair!” Samandriel mimicked.

Castiel dried his hands and began heating another pan on the stove to finish the vegetables. He turned to his sister with a remorseful eye, “I’m sorry, Anna. You’re on your own this time.”

She opened her mouth as if she were going to make another effort, but the ringing of the doorbell cut her off.

Anna and Castiel’s look shifted from intensity to curiosity.

“Who could that be?” Castiel asked.

Anna shrugged.

“Will one of you morons get the goddamn door?! Oh my fucking god!” Luci shouted from the other room.

Castiel sighed and started taking the towel off his shoulder. But Anna was already moving out of the kitchen, “I’ll get it!”

Castiel huffed, “Check before you answer!”

“I know!” Anna called back, already out of sight.

Castiel exhaled nervously, taking the tongs and flipping the chicken breasts nervously.

He heard the chain come off the door, and turned around with explosive concern as the door creaked opened. His thoughts screeched to a halt as he heard Anna greet loudly: “Oh, hey Dean!”

Castiel could hear Dean’s voice, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. The same with Anna’s voice, and then another response from Dean. 

The door closed and Castiel heard Dean’s voice once more. His heart was in his throat, and he kept his eyes on the stove and simmering food.

“Something smells good,” Dean’s voice said, much closer.

Castiel turned to look over his shoulder just to catch Dean’s gleaming eyes looking at him as he and Anna entered the kitchen.

Dean smiled toothily, “Heya, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Castiel, Dean said you didn’t tell him that you got a job at Cus’s Place?” Anna reprimanded him from the dining area where she and Dean stood.

Castiel blushed; he’d gotten the waiting job for the winter break because the family could use the money, meager as it was. Besides, he prophesied that he wouldn’t be spending much time hanging out with Dean anyway.

“Oh,” Castiel bit his lip, “I got a job at Cus’s.”

“That’s aweso-” 

Samandriel rammed head first into Dean’s legs, “Huh!”

“Oh, hey there,” Dean chuckled.

“Alfie!” Anna chastised and picked Samandriel up as he started throwing punches.

“Sorry about him,” Anna said as Samandriel struggled in her arms, “He’s usually not like this.”

Samandriel hid his face in Anna hair and gripped tight. Castiel was already putting some cheerios in a bowl.

He walked over to Anna, saying, “He’s probably just hungry.”

Anna nodded, wordlessly handing over Samandriel, who was already whining and reaching for the snacks in Castiel’s hand. 

Anna moved past him to the kitchen, “I’ll finish up.”

Samandriel was munching from the bowl Castiel had lifted up to him. Castiel looked over to her, “No, I can-”

“It’s okay, I got it,” Anna had started getting dishes and silverware out.

Castiel sighed and turned back to Dean, who was looking at him. Castiel shifted his weight and his eyes, asking, “What are you doing here, Dean?”

Castiel looked back up to catch Dean’s soft smile, “I thought we could walk to practice together.”

Castiel readjusted Samandriel on his hip, although the child paid no mind as he watched Anna with his hand in his mouth. Castiel didn’t know what to think. He bit his lip, “Well, I-”

“Catch the ball! Catch the ball! Oh! Are you kidding me?! Holy shit, you fucking idiots!” Luci’s voice boomed from the opposite room. The disruption not only made Castiel and Dean jump, but also Samandriel began to quietly cry into Castiel’s neck.

Castiel shot a dirty look at the entrance to the dimly lit living room as Lucifer himself stumbled in. He was in his late twenties, wearing dirty jeans were undone and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He had shoulder length, greasy blonde hair that framed his pale white skin, bubbling with skin condition.

Luci ignored Castiel, Samandriel, and Dean, focused on the kitchen as he hissed, “When the hell is food gonna be ready?”

Anna didn’t look over to him, “Soon.”

Luci sauntered over, flung open the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, commenting condescendingly, “Jesus, how long does it take to cook chicken? Commercial breaks don’t wait for dumb girls, kid.”

“I’ll bring you your food,” Castiel asserted. Lucifer looked over to him acting surprised, as if he’d just noticed Castiel’s existence. Castiel stood strong, “Just go away.”

Lucifer smiled maliciously, “Oh, there’s my little maid.”

“What’s your problem tonight?”

Lucifer used his lighter to pop off the bottle cap from his beer, letting it clatter to the floor. He leaned against the cabinets and took a swig, replying loudly, “My problem? My problem?! It’s their goddamn problem! If we don’t come back in this quarter we’re totally fucked!”

Castiel bit his lip, not wanting to feed into Lucifer’s games. Luci didn’t seem to mind, his eyes shifting over to Dean. His smile turned into a sneer, pulling out a cigarette as he directed to Dean, “What the fuck are you looking at?”

Castiel instinctually stepped between the eyeline of Lucifer and Dean. Luci raised a brow and turned away, saying to the room, “I need a smoke. Shit better be on a plate by the time I get back.”

Luci lit the cigarette while still inside, opening a backdoor to the patio after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Castiel exhaled and relaxed slightly. He turned to Dean, who was looking at him oddly. Castiel looked away and walked past him to the table. Castiel set Samandriel down in his booster seat and put the bowl of cheerios in front of him.

Castiel didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to apologize, because he couldn’t excuse Lucifer’s behavior. But at the same time he was embarrassed. He never wanted Dean to see this side of his life. A sudden pang of worry shot through his heart as he turned back to Dean, wondering if this would push him away even farther.

Castiel wordlessly walked past Dean again, going over to the kitchen to help Anna finish.

“Dean,” Anna’s voice was sudden, but much cheerier than before, “Are you hungry? Do you want a plate?”

“Oh,” Dean’s voice was soft, “I don’t know…”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t,” a harsh, feminine voice sliced in.

Castiel, Anna, and Dean all turned around to Naomi at the kitchen entrance, standing next to an indifferent Samandriel at the table. Castiel felt like screaming and running away, but instead he was frozen and shaking with anxiety.

“Dean,” Naomi greeted coldly, “We weren’t expecting you tonight. Did you come here from the school?”

Naomi walked past Dean to make Samandriel’s plate. Castiel was staring at Dean, but Dean’s eyes were following Naomi. Castiel watched Dean swallow and reply defensively, “Yeah, so?”

“Why were you at the school, Dean?” Anna asked innocently while portioning out the meals.

Dean looked at Castiel. He unconsciously jumped and looked away, going over to help Anna.

“Didn’t you hear?” Naomi replied for him while returning to Samandriel with a small plate, “Dean had detention.”

“Really? Why?” Anna asked Naomi with growing interest.

“I suppose you could ask him,” Naomi began with a grin in her voice, “Or Amanda Heckerling.”

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Anna’s voice seemed distant as she gasped, “What! Oh my gosh, are you going out with her?”

“It’s no big deal,” Dean’s shakey response seemed so much closer, even though he was further away. It reminded him of what Dean had said that night under the tree after he’d kissed Castiel.

Castiel was so deep in his thoughts he jumped again as Uriel came up behind him and took a prepared plate. 

Uriel reminded Castiel of himself, despite them having different moms. Uriel always had his headphones on and his walkman blaring, not talking unless absolutely necessary. When he was younger, he’d cry to Castiel all the time.

Castiel watched Uriel leave the room with his food as Naomi spat back to Dean, “Necking a young girl on school grounds is ‘no big deal’ to you?”

The backdoor hit the wall as it swung open. He slammed it closed and crossed over to Anna. He only muttered, “Fucking finally,” as he took the plate from Anna’s hands and swayed back to the living room.

Castiel took the opportunity to finish divvying out the rest of the food. He’d gone ahead and made another plate for Dean; he wasn’t sure why, but he’d already done it. 

He handed a plate to Anna and then took the other over to Dean. Handing it to him, he avoided Dean’s eyes as much as he could as he said, “Come on.”

“Goodnight, then, Dean,” Naomi said in a sickly fake, sweet tone.

Castiel led the way up to his room, where he typically ate his dinners with Anna; his room was a refuge from the noise and clashing attitudes. Still reeling from what Naomi had said, Castiel was able to ignore his alight nerves as he opened his bedroom door.

Castiel went ahead and sat on his bed, Dean stood as Anna came in after him and sat on the floor. Dean followed, resting his plate on the ground. Castiel felt embarrassed again.

“I’ll be right back,” Anna said after she set her plate down too, hopping back up and walking out.

A silence fell between Castiel and Dean. Castiel’s eyes stayed put on his plate, although he didn’t have an appetite anymore. He felt weird; this was the first time he and Dean had been alone for awhile, and it was also the first time that Dean was in Castiel’s room. 

As if he read Castiel’s mind, Dean commented suddenly, “You have a nice place.”

“Thanks,” Castiel poked at his vegetables with his fork.

Dean cleared his throat, “Room’s a little bare, though.”

Castiel looked around. He supposed there weren’t many decorations, but he’d never thought about putting anything up.

Castiel suddenly felt a baseless anger towards Dean. He bit his lip as Anna reentered with glasses full of water and her backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Here ya go!” She announced, handing out each glass before turning to Castiel, “And I thought we could go over the last chapter real quick?”

“Um,” Castiel looked over to Dean, catching him looking back. Dean looked away. Castiel smirked at Anna, “Sure.” 

“Great!” Anna sat on the floor and started eating while flipping through her book, “Dean, have you looked over chapter ten? You’ve been studying, right?”

“Ha, not really,” Dean admitted.

Anna laughed and Castiel cracked a smile, but the smile was for himself. He was relieved that Anna was there and that he didn’t have to talk to Dean directly.

###### 

Castiel’s realization of his relief to not want to be alone with Dean made him even more upset than before. And now that was amplified as he and Dean walked down the dimly lit street together in silence. Castiel couldn’t tell if his heartbeat or the crickets’ call was louder.

It was one thing to want to be around Dean, but another to be so vulnerable after being pushed away.

“Dinner was good,” Dean suddenly said.

Castiel stared at the asphalt passing below his feet, “I guess.”

“Thanks again for the grub,” Dean took a breath, “You’re a good cook.”

Castiel blushed. He didn’t know how to take the compliment. Honestly, he’d also forgotten how to breathe.

“Your older brother’s an asshole, though,” Dean observed.

Castiel’s blush intensified as he silently cursed his brother. He didn’t want to apologize for Lucifer’s actions, but was still immensely embarrassed. Castiel directed that anger towards Dean again, because he was the one that had showed up uninvited.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry,” Dean called out.

Castiel stopped, looking up he realized Dean wasn’t beside him. He had picked up the pace unconsciously and Dean had stopped altogether. Castiel turned around and faced Dean, a few yards away, slightly silhouetted by one of the few street lamps. 

Dean took a breath, “I don’t mean to rag on your family.”

Castiel’s brow creased and he squinted to the side, “No, Luci is an asshole.”

“Then what is it?” Dean’s voice cut through the night.

Castiel looked back to him and was met with a confrontational glare. Castiel took a deep breath and tried to temper his flaring anger, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you’re acting,” Dean’s mouth twisted, “Weird.”

Castiel’s brow shot up, “ _I’m_ acting weird?”

Dean bit his lip and looked away, “You’ve been quiet all night. I can tell you’re mad at me.”

Castiel looked down and didn’t respond. He was mad, but he didn’t know if he was ready to express everything he was feeling.

“So you are,” Dean said after a beat. Castiel looked up and caught Dean’s intense glare, “So tell me what it is.”

Castiel took a deep breath and choked out, “Why did you come to my house tonight?”

Dean chuckled in surprise, “Are you serious? I told you, to walk to practice together.”

Dean took a step towards Castiel, as if that cleared it all up. But Castiel took a step back and shook his head, “See, that’s the thing… Why? You haven’t really been spending time with me since the Halloween party. And now you come over from the school to my house to walk me back to school? You don’t even walk with me to the lockers anymore… I don’t know why you’re pretending like nothing’s going on.”

Castiel cut himself off and inhaled sharply. He blinked and realized Dean had looked away. His chest went from feeling heavy to tighter than a knot. But Castiel had meant every word.

Dean shook his head, “Nothing _is_ going on. You’re imagining things. I’ve just been busy lately, that’s all.”

Castiel bit his lip to stop the tears. Dean’s words made Castiel feel crazy and gaslit; he didn’t know what to believe. But he was still angry, and a savageness took over him then.

Castiel’s eyes shot back up to Dean as he spit out, “Busy with Amanda?”

Dean’s arms crossed, “Maybe.”

Castiel shook his head, allowing Dean all the ammunition to shoot him down, “I thought you didn’t like her.”

“I never said that.”

“So you do like her.”

“It’s not like that either,” Dean is more heated now too, “Like I said before, it’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, well what is a big deal to you then, Dean?” 

The last verbal bullet flew and Castiel could see from Dean’s expression that it was a bullseye.

A silence fell between them; Castiel felt raw.

“Hey, you guys!” Ash’s voice called from behind Dean.

Castiel turned away and kept walking. He heard Ash and some other teammates’ voices, but he didn’t care. They all wanted to be with Dean, anyway. That was fine by him. He only wished that he could fully disappear and never come back. Instead, he kept his head down and mind far away the rest of the night.

###### 

###### 

Cas wipes down the clean counter.

“Think it’ll ice over?” Donna asks Cas. 

He shrugs, “It always does this time of year.”

“Folks are already pulling off the road,” Jody adds while lifting her mug.

“I’ll be staying the night for one,” Benny comments nearby. He had only sat down a few minutes ago, although Cas had just recently opened for the morning, and his habit of butting into conversations hasn’t gotten any better.

“Delightful,” Jody replies with a groan, “You watch yourself, you hear, Benny? Don’t need you skating across the parking lot.”

“Yes ma’am,” Benny sips his coffee and looks straight ahead.

Cas never likes the sight of Benny decorating his diner counter. He slings his towel over his shoulder and turns to Benny, “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Not yet, boss,” Benny replies. His eyes slide over to Cas, “I’m waiting to meet a friend.”

An eerie chill runs down Cas’s spine.

“You?” Jody half smirks, “A friend?”

Benny sneers in Jody’s direction, “Don’t get jealous now, sweetheart.”

Jody and Donna exchange an eye roll. Cas sighs and is about to turn away from them when the bell rings at the front door. Cas looks just as Jody, Donna, and Benny do to the entrance of a worn leather jacket and short brown hair.

“Speak of the devil!” Benny chuckles, getting up from his seat to meet the other person, “Dean-o!”

Cas’s mind short circuits. Out of all the times Cas thought about seeing Dean in his diner again, it wasn’t with him greeting Benny.

“Looks like trouble,” Jody’s low voice wakes Cas up.

“Looks _cute_ ,” Donna replies giddily.

“Over here,” Benny’s voice comes closer, “Man, they put you on Bright Lights for real?”

“Yup, then down to Choo Choo and B Town,” Dean’s voice replies. Cas looks up just to catch Dean’s eye as he sits down next to Benny at the bar. 

Benny whistles, “Oof, I do not envy you.”

Dean looks away from Cas and chuckles along with Benny.

Cas realizes it’s about that time that Dean rolls into town again. It’s been a month and a half since their encounter after Christmas (he’d stayed a couple nights, actually), and Dean has come to visit him once more. Cas is getting the idea that Dean’s appearance can be expected every three weeks.

Cas approaches casually and asks as if Dean is any other patron in the early morning: “Coffee?”

“Thanks,” Dean replies shortly to Cas as if he is any other wait staff, turning back to Benny, “I heard you got stuck with suicide jock loads, though…”

Cas focuses on pouring the coffee into the mug.

“Ah, it’s not so bad,” Benny shrugs, “Gasoline is still a highly valued commodity, after all. Besides, it’s almost always in state.”

Cas sets the mug and saucer next to Dean without looking at him. He moves to the side to top off the two officers’s drinks. Cas notices that, unlike himself (who is trying very hard not to look at Dean), Donna and Jody are all but gawking at him.

The trucker chatter quiets and Cas suspects they’ve noticed. Cas’s own eyes hesitantly dare to look at the situation unfold: 

“Something I can help you with, Sheriff?” Benny says slyly. He had caught Jody and Donna’s gaze, and now Dean is turning to them as well.

There are only two seats between the coupled groups, with Dean seated closer to the officers. Jody, sitting on the outside of Donna, leans forward on the counter and replies, “Just trying to place your friend. He looks familiar.”

“Name’s Dean Winchester,” he replies for himself.

Jody raises a brow but smiles, “Dean, Sheriff Jody Mills.”

“Hi there,” Donna pipes up, “Donna Hanscum. Also a sheriff.”

“You pass through often?” Jody asks.

Dean takes a breath, thinking, “More and more. I have a route to Kansas City.”

“So I heard,” Jody replies quickly.

Dean gives a charming smile and turns to Donna, “Those look good.”

He points to the white paper bag of donut holes next to her plate. Cas’s brow cocks; he never took Dean for having a sweet tooth. Donna and Jody had brought him some of Ms. Mildred’s morning pastries to sell, and Donna always got a bag for herself.

Donna blushes, “They’re delicious! Would you like one?”

A goofy smile crosses Dean’s face, “Don’t have to twist my arm! Thanks.”

Donna is happy to share and seems quite taken by Dean. Cas notices that Jody, on the other hand, is still looking on skeptically.

“Should we wait for Garth to order?” Dean asks Benny through chewing down the plump donut hole.

Cas’s heart pangs as he catches Benny’s endeared smile, sonorous voice saying, “That’d be the polite thing to do.”

Cas feels stricken. He’s never seen Benny look at someone like that before.

“Another friend is joining you?” Jody butts in.

Benny throws her a dirty look, “Is that a problem?”

Benny turns his look towards Cas, who suddenly becomes aware that he was just standing and listening. Cas turns away and picks up some work at the window. He sees Hannah eyeing him and tries not to blush; he knows he’s being suspicious about not being suspicious. 

But he can’t walk away. He _needs_ to know why Dean is here, with Benny, and what they mean to one another.

“I’m just surprised you’re so popular,” Jody steals Benny’s attention back, “How do you all know each other?”

Cas’s movements still, his skin on fire while aghast that Jody may be reading his mind.

“We’re war buddies,” Benny responds with a light tone that shrouds a heavier context.

“I didn’t know you served-”

All eyes shift to Cas, but all Cas sees is Dean looking at him with a shock that Cas feels mirrored on his own face. He is just as surprised he said something as anybody else in the proximity is. 

Cas quickly tries to save face, eyes moving over to the other trucker everyone else knows he is acquainted with: “Benny. We, uh, have a veteran’s discount.”

“Oh,” Benny smiles as if he’s trying not to laugh, “How considerate.”

Cas nods and turns back around, silently cursing himself for his faux pas.

“So what company were you in, Dean?” Jody asks, her voice sounds much more comfortable.

“Bravo one-one,” Dean spouts off quickly.

“Marines,” Donna oohs.

“Just a corporal,” Dean mutters.

“You were nearly sergeant and we were infantry unit,” Benny interjects, “Nothing to sneeze at.”

“No kidding,” Jody says.

The bell of the diner’s door rings and breaks the conversation.

“There he is!” Dean’s voice calls.

Cas looks behind him and sees Benny and Dean’s backs to the counter, greeting a scrawny, scruffy man who approaches.

“Howdy, boys,” the new man says.

“Let’s go get that booth,” Benny suggests, standing up.

“Sure,” Dean replies, following.

The other man stays behind and gestures to Cas, “Another coffee over there, please.”

Cas nods.

He goes to pour a fresh cup when he notices Donna and Jody eyeing him. Cas looks away and bites his lip. He remembers what Megan said at the bar last month, about how Met had talked to everyone about hearing him with Dean. Benny had been at the bar that night and-

Cas places the mug too harshly on a tray, but manages to quietly ask Gadreel to wait the table with the three veterans.

###### 

The diner had a midday rush, but had gone completely quiet afterward. Jack had a rough day at school and didn’t hang out long downstairs. Cas had sent the staff home early, knowing he could handle the place for himself. They hadn’t fought back.

Perhaps their willingness was selfish, or maybe it was because Cas had been in a despondent mood all day. 

A lot is on his mind.

Seeing Dean with Benny today brought up a lot of emotions Cas doesn’t know how to handle.

Firstly, he is jealous as hell. Cas likes to think that he and Dean’s bond is profound, but what Dean and Benny have is special. Secondly, hearing of Dean’s service had thrown a heavy blanket of guilt over Cas. 

He partially cringes at his rude behavior to Dean’s work as a trucker, but in actuality he was a soldier. Also, imagining that part of Dean’s life reminds Cas of how distant he’s kept Dean in their current relationship.

Cas exits the restaurant that still needs closing, locking the front door. He’ll be back soon, but right now he just has a craving to see and talk with his son. Being with Jack is grounding.

Cas walks up the steps attached to the side of the diner and knocks. No answer. Cas’s heart stutters, and he knocks harder. A pause, Cas tries not to freak out. 

The door opens, “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” Cas starts with a sigh of relief. Being a parent is a self-induced nightmare. Cas tries on a smile, “You hungry?”

Jack shakes his head, “Not really.”

Cas bites his lip, reading Jack’s sad countenance. He asks gently, “Can I come in?”

Jack looks to the side but nods, stepping back. Cas walks through, following Jack and closing the door behind him. 

“How’s school been going?” Cas asks.

Jack slumps back onto his small couch, “Fine, I guess.”

“Something seems to be the matter,” Cas persists, sitting down next to Jack.

Jack sighs, “Some of the kids at school keep making fun of me and I don’t understand why.”

Cas’s brow furrows, “What do they say?”

Jack shakes his head, “Just stuff about their families knowing my mom. And… My father.”

Cas swallows around a lump in his throat.

Jack looks far off, “They call me ‘monster’ and stuff. I wish I understood.”

Cas looks upon his son emphatically. He recognizes his pain, and realizes it’s better for Jack to know his whole past. Cas and he had always been clear on the basic dynamics of their unique family relationship. However, Cas had saved Jack from some of the more grizzly details…

Cas puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder. Now is not the time; Cas has too much on his mind already, and telling Jack this deserves thought and care.

“Don’t worry, Jack,” Cas reassures, “How about we go out of town to a nice lunch this weekend? Little day trip?”

“What about the diner?” Jack asks quickly. He nor Cas were ones to skip out on work. But Cas knows that this subject deserves care.

“Sundays are slow after the church rush,” Cas observes, “Besides, I think the diner will survive one day without us.”

Cas smiles and Jack smiles back.

“Okay,” Jack replies, “That sounds nice.”

Cas nods, “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

Jack looks to the side bashfully, “I actually had some cereal up here.”

Cas imagines Jack with his cookie cereal and chuckles. He doesn’t mind Jack having breakfast (or, really, dessert) for dinner because he’s had a hard day. Cas is just glad that Jack can come home and relax. When he was his age, a bad day would happen and Cas had to endure and function through it. 

Cas departs Jack’s loft after a hug, and another hefty load weighs down on Cas’s mind. He unlocks the front entrance of the diner and drifts in like a ghost. He leans against the bar counter and sighs one of the deepest sighs of his life.

Cas reaches for his phone in his pocket and looks at the time. While looking at the time, he also double checks that he has no messages. No messages.

He bites his lip and looks over to the little radio and multi-media unit that has been apart of the diner as long as Cas has owned it. The unit has a small cassette deck, which is nifty for Cas’s slow slip into a world of self pity.

Cas plays the B side of Dean’s Led Zeppelin mix tape. He likes this side the most because it has “D’yer Mak’er.”

To the rhythmic swinging of guitar riffs and crescendoing drums, Cas starts flipping the chairs onto the tables that have already been wiped down. 

He’s almost done mopping the front of house when the tape clicks to an end. Cas grimaces at the ocean of wet floor he’d have to slide through to get to the player. Instead, he sighs and cleans in the silence of the closed, half-lit diner.

The entrance’s bell rings behind Cas’s back.

Cas stills, jolted by fear as he reels around. His eyes land on Dean, the door closing behind him.

Cas huffs, trying to shake off his clenched nerves, “Dean!”

A crooked smile plays on those voluptuous lips, “Did I scare you?”

Cas rolls his eyes, “Will you lock that door? I don’t want anyone else wandering in.”

Dean smiles and does as Cas asked. He turns back to Cas and asks, “Are we alone?”

Cas squeezes the mop with the bucket and sighs, “Yes.”

His eyes trail back up to Dean as he feels him walking towards him. Cas’s eyes shift to look out the diner’s front windows. Cars are still passing. Cas turns away and goes into the kitchen.

Cas only has time to turn around and briefly marvel at the sight of Dean pushing past the swinging doors of his kitchen before he’s infiltrating Cas’s space. Dean backs Cas up to a counter, arms on either side of him.

Cas feels more unprepared for being this close to Dean than he did when they first reunited.

Dean kisses his cheek, “Hey.”

A chill runs down Cas’s spine, “How’d you know I was here?”

“Was on my way to your place, but saw the light on,” Dean nibbles at Cas’s earlobe.

Cas blushes, “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”

Dean grinds his pelvis into Cas’s, “You saw me earlier. Figured you’d know I’d come see you.”

Cas grips onto the back Dean’s shirt and leans into his shoulder, “I thought you’d be out with Benny tonight.”

Dean pulls away and Cas tries to quickly shroud the spiteful look he’d let slip when his face was buried into Dean’s body. Dean cups his cheek and smiles, “I wanted to see you. I wish I could see you more.”

Cas feels like he’s on fire under Dean’s touch. The guilt bubbles up, and Cas averts his eyes.

Dean chuckles, hand falling away, “You don’t look so glad to see me, though.”

Cas’s arms pull Dean in closer. He hears Dean inhale, and he holds him tight against his body. Cas holds his breath, not sure how to put into words what he’s feeling.

“I was…” Cas starts, finally gathering the courage to meet Dean’s eyes again, “I was surprised to see you earlier… With Benny.”

Dean keeps the eye contact and lets Cas hold him, but he doesn’t respond yet.

Cas takes a deep breath, “I don’t know how you feel about our… Arrangement.”

Dean’s brow cocks, “What about it? Want me to take you out to dinner?”

Cas huffs, frustrated Dean doesn’t know what he’s getting at, “It’s not like we’re… ‘dating.’ But I’m realizing how much I don’t know about you.”

“Oh, you’re just now getting that?” Dean jests.

“Dean,” Cas warns.

Dean looks at him skeptically. Cas swallows and squints his eyes, trying to be serious for once.

“Well, there’s not a lot I know about you either, right?” Dean says like a spear through the brain.

Cas swallows, trying not to think of Jack upstairs.

Dean finally cracks a smile, “You’ve never asked me about myself and I don’t ask about what’s happened to you. I thought that’s how you wanted it.”

“Okay, but how can you be fine with that?”

Dean loses his smile and takes even breaths. He presses against Cas more, so much that his back starts to hurt as it digs into the edge of the counter. He doesn’t mind, totally entranced with how Dean’s eyes look flooded with emotion. 

“My life is shit, Cas,” Dean finally says, “But when I’m with you, I forget about all of that. I just want to be with you, okay? Don’t make me talk about that mushy, past shit, please. I’m fine with you not caring. I get it.”

Cas is shocked. He doesn’t like hearing what Dean is saying, doesn’t want Dean to be sad. But Cas is on the outside of what has happened in Dean’s life, and Dean is content with that. The shock transforms into an urge to be in as much physical contact with Dean as possible. He wants to hold him closer.

Cas blushes, seeing Dean’s pupils expand. He nods. Dean nods back.

There’s a brief pause in time when Cas and Dean just exchange intense gazes upon one another. Then, Cas’s fists clench Dean’s shirt, Dean moves in, and their lips press against each other’s.

Dean expertly licks into Cas’s mouth and caresses Cas’s tongue with his own. Cas moans and runs his hands up into Dean’s hair. Dean reacts to that - he’s always liked it when Cas plays with his hair - and presses his thumbs into Cas’s hips.

They embrace and kiss for awhile like that, losing themselves in each other. Then, Dean’s hands start to wander lower. 

Cas catches them and breaks the kiss, saying against Dean’s lips, “Not here.”

“Then let’s go,” Dean nibbles at Cas’s lips.

Cas trembles, “I… I have to finish closing.”

“God, you’re killing me. What owner takes out the trash anyway?” Dean pulls away more and smirks, “What should I do then, camp outside your place?”

Cas imagines Met running into Dean and shudders, feeling much more sober now.

Cas bites his lip and slips his hand away from Dean. He fishes around in his back pocket and pulls out his keys. Against Dean’s chest, still pressed against his own, Cas takes his house key off the ring.

“Here,” he says, handing it to Dean, “Get comfortable. I’ll probably be there in half an hour.”

Dean’s eyes wander over Cas’s face, “Yeah, okay.”

Dean leans in and steals another kiss. Cas caves under his touch and they get wrapped up in one another yet again.

###### 

###### 

Castiel watched the sunset’s lights against the clouds through the narrow, overhead windows of the gym. Thunder had rumbled all day, but no rain fell from the looming overcast sky, making the sunset pale and dark. The mats were placed around Castiel as he stood in the middle of the empty gym, looking up and squinting past the bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling.

He turned to the double doors as they opened. Raul and Jervis entered.

“Evening, Cas!” Raul called, waving as they approached him.

Castiel waved back.

He was still getting used to everyone being friendly with him when he felt so awkward inside. The last three nights Castiel had come early to avoid walking with Dean. He had the key, and he thought it would save time to set up beforehand. Because of this, the team also looked to him for structure. 

The first night of practice had been a wreck; everybody did matches, but the night was short lived. On the second night, Castiel had come early. Once everyone had arrived, he suggested freeform warm ups. After that, he thought they should pair up, practice, cool down, and leave at their leisure. The night went over very well, and every night after had gotten better.

Castiel was anxious about this last night of training, chalking it up to nerves since tomorrow would be the first day of the state tournament. But he was glad that Raul and Jervis were the first to arrive, as opposed to others…

Raul and Jervis stopped and stood next to Castiel. Raul had short, slick black hair, pale white, and had a harsh lazy eye. Jervis was scrawnier than the other two boys, with chocolate brown skin, and wore thick-rimmed glasses.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Raul gave Castiel’s shoulder a joshing punch.

“I guess,” Castiel shrugged, “It feels like there’s still so much to do.”

“Well you’ve done a lot!” Raul pointed out.

“Y-yeah, th-thanks for getting st-stuff r-r-ready,” Jervis added.

Castiel blushed, “It’s no big deal.”

“Yesterday was epic!” Raul exclaimed.

“I-it wa-was a l-late one,” Jervis chuckled.

Castiel felt bashful, “Yeah, honestly.”

“Y-y-you st-stayed after again?” Jervis asked.

Castiel tried to shrug it off, “I have the keys so I have to lock up anyway.”

“Didn’t Dean help you pack up last night?” Raul asked casually.

Castiel’s senses came alight, “No… Why would you think that?”

Raul looked at Jervis and shrugged, “We wanted to hang out with him and Ash but he said he was staying back. Aren’t you guys good friends?”

Castiel’s eyes darted to the side, “Yeah, but I cleaned up alone.”

Castiel pushed away the envious imaginings of Dean meeting up with some girl late at night, kissing under a tree.

“Do you want some help tonight?” Raul asked.

“Y-yeah, need a h-hand?”

Castiel smiled, “Maybe, thanks. We’ll see how long you guys can last, though.”

“Ha, just watch!” Raul laughed.

“Y-you kn-know you can’t keep-p up with C-Cas, Raul,” Jervis joked, “H-he’s a b-beast!”

“Ugh, stop sucking his dick!” 

“Uck!” 

Raul and Jervis laughed heartily. Castiel tried to laugh too, but felt wrong in a way he didn’t recognize.

“Dr-Drex was th-the one who w-was say-saying C-Cas sh-should be captain,” Jervis said.

“What? He was?” Raul looked surprised.

Jervis nodded, “Th-that’s what A-Ash s-said.”

“Yo, you _should_ be captain, though!” Raul turned to Castiel with an astonished expression.

“What?” Castiel was surprised; he could never have expected a proposition so outlandish.

“R-right?” Jervis responded to Raul, “W-we h-haven’t ha-had a c-captain si-since Cr-Crowley graduated-ed.”

“Man, was that only last year?” Raul scratched his head.

“Earlier th- _this_ year!” Jervis corrected.

“Hey! What’s going on!” Ash’s voice called from behind the group.

Castiel had heard the gym door open before Ash’s voice, but the noise had set his heart so alight that he acted as if he hadn’t noticed. He only turned to see Ash, Drex, and Dean walk in as Raul and Jervis turned too.

“Oh hey!” Raul called out, “We were just talking about Cas as captain!”

“Ah hells yeah!” Ash hooted. 

Drex, Raul, and Jervis laughed. Castiel looked past the approaching boys as he saw two other teammates entered. There were twelve people on the team, so four more had to show up still. Castiel swallowed hard as Dean joined the circle of conversation, hoping that the rest of the team would show up soon.

“Cas, what do you think?” Drex asked.

Castiel blinked and as his mind returned to the group. He blinked at them, “About?”

“About being captain!”

Castiel blushed and bit his lip, looking around the group. He said, “I don’t know, I have a lot on my plate…”

“But you’d be perfect!” Ash added, “Come on, dude.”

“Let’s just see what the rest of the team thinks,” Castiel averted, “Besides, you guys aren’t planning to wrestle like that, are you?”

He gestured to the boys’ street clothes. Some of them chuckled and they all started heading for the locker room to change as the others trickled in.

Eventually everyone was ready and chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Castiel led the warm ups and the team followed. Everyone knew what was going on and was excited to get to the matches.

Everyone paired up effortlessly, meeting with the person they had been matching for the last few nights. Drex found Castiel at the far right mat. Drex was a fair bottom, so it was a good opportunity for Castiel to exercise his topping technique.

But about a half an hour in, a sweaty Ash approached Castiel and Drex’s mat, followed by a hesitant Dean.

“Hey Ash,” Castiel said as he noticed him, getting up from his knees, “What’s up?”

“Hey, do you mind if I switch you Drex with Dean?” Ash asked, out of breath, “Dean’s just, uh, well… I think you’d be a better match for him than me.”

“Oh,” Castiel looked away, “Well… I don’t see why not, if Drex is alright with it.”

Castiel sent Drex a pleading look, which he totally ignored. Instead, he seemed thrilled, “Oh, yeah, for sure! That’s a good idea. See ya, Cas!”

“Thanks!” Ash called.

Drex rushed off with Ash, and Castiel watched helplessly as his last two buffers walked away with a small tear in his eye. Castiel jumped as Dean started to say behind him, “So…”

Castiel turned to him and saw Dean looking away, rubbing at his neck, “I was practicing my crowding with Ash…”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Dean cleared his throat and looked around before he got into bottom position on the mat. Castiel kept his mind far away, pretending like Dean was still Drex to keep his mind from tailspinning.

Dean’s skin was hot, as if he had a fever. But his muscles were strong and clenched under Castiel’s grip. Dean was slightly bigger too, making Castiel have to get up higher and closer on Dean in order to properly wrap his arm around Dean’s chest.

Castiel braced himself and started the fight quickly after settling, putting down all his pressure on Dean. Dean tried the break and twist, but he was twisting without the break. Castiel held strong and dug his chin into Dean’s back while he moved his other arm to twist up and around the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean lifted his hips as if to stand, and Castiel pushed his knees against the back of Dean’s and tried to push him down again. Dean slipped from under Castiel’s intense grasp and was able to pull at one of Castiel’s legs. Castiel lost his balance, but didn’t let go of Dean, who also slammed down to the mat.

Castiel mitigated Dean’s quick crowding, but Castiel switched into a tight box form that locked Dean’s movements from a reswitch. Dean’s shoulders were pinned to the floor. There was a struggle, the hold, and then the quick release in the light of the winner.

Castiel and Dean caught their breath. Dean suggested neutral position. Castiel agreed.

Their matches were numerous and furious. There was a rhythm to their fight, an anticipation built on moves and tactics that he would counter. A flow built through their practice, and Castiel felt lost in their matches.

The gym’s door closing echoed through the silent gym. Castiel blinked as he was gripping over Dean, both of them laying on the mat. He lost his concentration as he noticed they were the only two left. Castiel wondered how long he and Dean had been practicing.

Dean took the opportunity to take the upperhand. Castiel was surprised by a lot right now, and blinked again as he looked up at Dean’s distant yet focused expression. Castiel went limp, trying to communicate that he was out of it now.

Dean shook his head and let go. He got up and looked around, “Man, we must have really gotten into it.”

“Yeah,” Castiel sat up. 

He was about to get to his feet, when an open hand was offered to him. Castiel bit his lip, looked away, and took the hand. 

“Good game,” Dean pulled Castiel to his feet. 

Castiel moved his hand away from Dean’s as soon as he got the chance, “You too…”

They stood in silence, both a little dazed by the lost time.

“I’m gonna change,” Dean thumbed towards the locker room. 

Castiel turned away, “Okay.”

He heard Dean sigh and then walk away. Castiel started cleaning off the mats. He finished stacking them, wondering what was taking Dean so long. Castiel had resolved that he would walk home in his wrestling singlet, having put on his jersey coat and grey sweats he’d bought at a school thrift event, hanging off his hips by a shoestring.

Castiel was somewhat curious about how long Dean was taking in the locker room. He sighed and looked up at the windows. The sun had gone down completely, making it impossible to see through the windows past the overhead lights.

Castiel went to the side of the gym and turned off the lights. The gym was thrown into a deep darkness, and Castiel looked up through the windows. The moon slipped in and out of view through the thicket of moving clouds.

Castiel leaned against the wall and watched the clouds pass by as he waited.

The locker room door opened and Castiel watched as Dean’s details became more clear through the dark the closer he got to him, wearing his henley shirt with his leather jacket and jeans. Castiel started walking away towards the double doors to the outside.

“Cas, wait,” Dean called out. 

Castiel, against his better judgement, stopped. But this time he couldn’t turn around and face Dean. He just said to the floor: “What is it?”

“You’re still mad at me,” Dean sounded mad too.

Castiel turned back to him, “Why do you care?”

“Stop acting like a baby,” Dean hit back, “Can’t we just talk?”

“I’ve already said what I needed to,” Castiel’s fists clenched, “And you made it clear how you feel.”

“No,” Dean said, closer now, “I didn’t make it clear.”

Castiel’s instincts warned him of some danger. But he was either brave or dumb, because instead of running, an old classic kicked out of his mouth: “Leave me alone.”

Castiel felt the atmosphere freeze over.

“Is that how it’s gonna be?” Dean asked after a beat of silence.

Castiel didn’t know, he was doing all he could to just not start crying. He felt a lot of things, but he didn’t know how to communicate it all. He missed Dean, but he was mad at him; the anger itself was a complicated beast.

Castiel turned towards him as Dean approached him. Dean stared him down, and even though Castiel’s eyes were brimming with moisture, he stared back.

Castiel watched as Dean got into neutral position. Castiel’s brow furrowed, “What are you doing?”

Dean maintained the position, “Fight me.”

“What?” Castiel didn’t understand.

“Come on,” Dean moved forward and threw a loose, bear claw at Castiel’s jaw.

The attack didn’t hurt as much as it provoked Castiel.

“Stop that,” Castiel demanded.

“I want you to fight me,” Dean pushed Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel snapped, letting his instincts take over. He grabbed hold of Dean’s wrist at his shoulder and pulled him in, using his other hand to grab under Dean’s armpit to control him. Castiel threw his weight and managed to spin Dean around and throw him on to the floor. 

Dean’s back slammed against the ground and Castiel heard him groan.

Castiel felt a pang of concern, but not after Dean tugged on Castiel arm and pulled him down to the ground with him. Dean’s knee pinned Castiel’s hip to the hardwood floor, but he was able to swing the weight from his other side to flip Dean.

Castiel was about to pin him down when Dean swept his leg from underneath and grabbed onto Castiel’s clothes.

Castiel was shocked, having to realize quickly as he blocked a blow from Dean that they weren’t playing by wrestling rules.

Their fighting became something feral, full of long stretches of one person trying to be stronger than the other in one position before the other made a dirty maneuver for the upperhand. Castiel’s tears were long gone, replaced by senses alight with adrenaline.

Both his jersey coat and Dean’s leather jacket had long been torn off by their pulling and pushing. He was getting caught against Dean’s street clothes, his sneakers squeaked and scuffed the gym floor. Dean’s boots kicked at his ankles and Castiel tried to top his clunky footing.

Their grunts of attack, defense, frustration echoed the empty and dark gymnasium. The rhythm of the fight had been set, and Castiel’s mind jumped around like electricity leaps through cables to its source. 

He thought about the first time Dean had kissed him, how he’d pulled away and blown it off; how it _had_ affected Dean, and _did_ hurt Castiel. They were such a mess now - Dean pinned Castiel’s chest and shoulders to the floor - and all Dean wanted do was fight!

Castiel felt all his anger - about everything - come to a head as he was able to lock Dean’s legs with his, flip them, and pin Dean’s neck, shoulders and arms with his forearms.

Dean ferociously struggled for a moment, but Castiel held him down. There was a moment of physical calm as they both caught their breath in heavy, stinging huffs.

Now that they were closer, and his eyes had adjusted to the light, Castiel could make out the details of Dean’s face. Dean’s eyes were black, still washed in darkness, but Castiel could manage to count all of Dean’s freckles if he was allowed the time.

The freckles got closer, and Castiel let go of Dean, backing up so he could glance at the dangerously appealing lips before they were out of sight; less of a vision and more of a sensation against him. Castiel’s heart pounded, and he tried to move away. Dean’s fingers pinched the sweats at Castiel’s hips, and that patch of skin tingled to the point of submission.

Castiel kissed Dean back, his knees buckled over Dean and his lips slid against the other’s. Dean made a noise and Castiel felt like his mind was on fire. He couldn’t believe that Dean was kissing him. Castiel’s mind reeled as the thought struck him through the heart: _Not again._

Castiel seriously broke off the kissing, pushing past Dean to rest his head on the other boy’s shoulder. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath in an entirely different way than before.

Dean’s grip tightened on Castiel suddenly and he flipped him over.

“Dean!” Castiel said in surprise.

Dean was laying on top of Castiel instead of forcing him against the floor. He knelt down on his elbow beside Castiel’s head. Dean was so close it was impossible to not look him in the eye. He asked, “Why are you crying?”

Castiel trembled as he felt Dean’s thumb against his wet cheek. He bit his lip, glad that the dark could hide his blush. He didn’t know why he was crying, why this was even happening to him. Still - after a few deep breaths - Castiel managed to bring some thoughts together.

“Does this time not mean anything either?” Castiel was proud of how evenly his voice came out.

He heard Dean’s breath catch, saw the uncertainty in his face. He wondered if Dean would ever talk to him again after this.

Dean’s head shook, “Dammit, Cas, I don’t want to make you cry.”

Dean pressed his forehead against Castiel’s, and he felt a surge of electricity strike through his body.

Dean’s voice sounded like it was being ripped from his body, “I’m not good at this stuff, you know I’m not good at this stuff, but I don’t want to ever make you cry. I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

Castiel choked on his tears, “Just tell me the truth.”

He felt Dean shiver against him as he admitted: “I don’t know what to do. I feel different about you and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Castiel sniffed, “What do you want to do?”

Dean’s eyes seemed to darken even further. Castiel inhaled shakily.

“I just want to kiss you,” Dean whispered, “I’ve never been with a guy, never thought… But I think about kissing you all the time. Can I kiss you, Cas?”

Castiel was overwhelmed. He swelled under Dean’s attention, his lips worked to form the words: “I… I don’t want you to just use me to experiment with. I miss hanging out with you more than anything.”

“Castiel, I’m sorry about everything I said before. I’m an asshole, guilty as charged,” Dean breathed with clarity against Castiel’s skin. Every syllable set Castiel’s nerves on fire. Dean continued, “But I’m here, like, bearing my soul to you now, telling you I really like you. And, well… How do you feel about me?”

Castiel counted his breaths. One. Dean was beautiful. Two. Dean was close. Three. Dean was unpredictable.

On the last exhale, Castiel replied, “How you make me feel scares me. But…”

Castiel paused and held Dean’s eyes, feeling the weight of the moment: “But when you’re here, with me, I’m excited.”

Castiel felt a magnetism towards Dean, as if there were some invisible string pulling them together.

“Do you feel that?” Dean whispered in a voice that sent blood pumping south for Castiel, “If you don’t then just call me crazy, but I mean- Come on, you feel that, right?”

Castiel could feel it.

By being like this - saying and doing those sorts of things - Dean was asking Castiel to trust him, and his brain melted before it could process that. Instead, his body came to life.

“Kiss me?” Dean breathed.

Castiel nodded. Dean lowered himself another few inches and their lips met.

They both inhaled at the same time, their lips moving together. Castiel felt Dean’s tongue lick at his bottom lip, and a small noise escaped from Castiel’s throat.

Dean’s hands hungrily searched Castiel’s arms, chest, hips. Castiel instinctually bit at Dean’s bottom lip as he tried to control his twitching hips. He felt his dick hardening more and more, and he thought it should be pretty obvious to Dean.

Castiel tried to push him away, “Dean-”

“Cas, it’s okay,” Dean’s voice was ragged, he pushed forward against Castiel’s body. Castiel felt Dean slide something against his own pelvis, right along the length of his cock. 

“Ah!” Castiel exclaimed. He hadn’t been expecting Dean to also be as hard as him, but Castiel could feel him through his denim jeans. Castiel’s breath caught as he realized it was the first time he’d ever felt another boy against him.

Castiel felt like his lips were melting together. Dean’s mouth was at Castiel’s neck and jaw, kissing and licking there. Castiel’s arms wrapped around Dean, slipping under his shirt, gripping onto Dean’s sweat slicked back as he thrusted up to Dean.

Dean moaned against Castiel’s skin, teeth bumping up against his neck during the thrust. Dean beared down. 

Castiel had to choke down a call for mercy. He couldn’t begin to comprehend why he enjoyed the tender pain so much, but he’d abandoned the idea of trying not to wriggle under Dean.

The sensation increased as one of Dean’s hands wandered to Castiel’s nipple and rubbed at the soft skin against his nylon singlet. Castiel couldn’t handle it, “Oh, Dean!”

Calling his name was less of a warning and more of a begging; wanting to know how something could ever possibly feel this good. 

Dean must have taken it the other way, though. He pulled away from Castiel’s neck with a shudder and flattened his hand against Castiel’s chest. At the shift in mood, Castiel recognized his brain was letting go, and it was scary taking everything in. Castiel took the moment to mumble together: “This is a lot.”

Dean’s eyes were trailing over Castiel, his voice drenched in emotion, “It is a lot.”

Castiel gulped past a gluey saliva, teeth chattering as if he had the chills, “I’ve… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Me neither,” Dean replied with too much confidence. 

He began to move back in towards Castiel, but Castiel brought his hands around from Dean’s back to his chest and managed to push him back. Dean looked confused. Castiel brow was knotted, “But you _have_. You-”

The thought of Dean with Hannah, only five days ago, in _this_ school attacked his brain. He managed to push the jealous emotions aside.

Castiel took a heaving breath, “I haven’t done anything. Ever.”

Dean looked away. Castiel panicked. Dean started to sit up on his knees, legs intertwined with Castiel’s for a half straddle. Castiel would have felt completely abandoned if Dean’s fingertips weren’t touching his chest still.

“Do you want to stop?” Dean’s voice gently asked.

Castiel’s hands touched Dean’s hands as he considered the question. Castiel couldn’t imagine going home after all this, not knowing if he’d ever have this kind of time again. His hands traveled up Dean’s arms. Castiel liked Dean’s skin.

“No,” Castiel replied quietly, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Castiel tugged at Dean’s arms, and Dean came to him easily. But although he was leaning over Castiel again, Dean stopped. He looked at him and asked, “Yeah?”

Castiel felt mushy and safe. He nodded, blushing, “Yes. Just… Tell me if I do something wrong, okay?”

Dean looked shocked. Castiel bit his lip, figuring that he’d already messed up. But then Dean was kissing his cheek and Castiel felt like a puddle again.

“Same goes for you,” Dean’s voice was so close, and it was real, “But I don’t think you could do anything wrong. You’re like an angel.”

Castiel was grabbed by the instinct to run more than he had felt the entire night. His heart swelled and he didn’t know what to do. But he was frozen under Dean’s embrace, enchanted by his words.

Dean was looking at him intensely, and Castiel felt a calm wash over him. There was a feeling Castiel couldn’t put into words, but was roughly a realization that his wanting to run away was directly associated with wanting to be intimate with Dean.

Castiel cleared the space between them and lightly pressed his lips against Dean’s again. Dean hummed and pressed back. Castiel’s heart wasn’t working properly, but still he felt like all was right. Kissing Dean was better than anything he ever experienced before. 

One of Castiel’s hands that had been gripping Dean’s bicep moved to the skin of Dean’s jaw, fingernails trailing up to pass through Dean’s crew cut. He felt Dean’s cock get hard against him again, and Castiel was right there too.

Dean’s tongue licked Castiel’s lip again and he moved his hips in response. Dean’s hand was back at Castiel’s nipple, the other touching his stomach. His hands fisted in Dean’s hair and against his chest as a moan escaped him. When his mouth opened to moan, Dean’s tongue slipped in and pressed against Castiel’s tongue.

Castiel was surprised that the wet, awkwardness of their tongues circling around and against one another could stimulate such a powerful response from him. Castiel’s hips thrusted again and Dean rode him like a wave.

Dean’s tongue slid away and Castiel groaned in protest. Dean’s hand pushed at Castiel’s hair above his brow, making him open his eyes. A beam of moonlight must have broken through the clouds because there was a pale glow that had dimly illuminated the gym through the windows.

Dean had a shadowy glimmer to him, and Castiel’s eyes were wide staring at him. Dean wore an expression that was bashful yet lewd. Castiel got embarrassed himself as he felt his cock jerk once more.

Dean’s fingers trailed against the bare skin of Castiel’s collarbone, and then down further. Dean was looking at that area and not into his eyes, so Castiel allowed himself to breathe and shiver. But Castiel quickly lost his cool and looked down as well when he felt Dean’s fingers hook under Castiel’s singlet strap.

“Cas, um,” Castiel watched Dean lick his lips, “Can I- Can I see you?”

Castiel felt like his entire body was burning up. He couldn’t help the shaking in his voice, “Wha-”

Dean slid one strap down Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel whimpered. Of course, he and Dean changed next to each other in the locker room all the time, but it never felt like this.

“I want to see you,” Dean was tugging at the other side now, “Is that okay?”

“You mean…?” Castiel knew Dean was taking off his clothes, but he didn’t know to what extent.

Dean sat up again and yanked down Castiel’s singlet to his elbows, exposing the top of his chest.

“Ah, Dean!” Castiel gasped in surprise. He had barely had time to process Dean’s words, much less prepare to feel so exposed.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean’s voice came suddenly. Castiel felt the air disappear from his lungs.

“I don’t know if that’s what you say to a dude, but,” Dean’s hands were feeling Castiel’s chest along the lines of his muscles, “That’s what I think.”

Castiel didn’t know what Dean was supposed to say either, because he’d never gotten a compliment like that before. Castiel had never considered his looks too much, preoccupied more by clothes than his face or body. There was a despondent bodily dysmorphia there that Dean was unknowingly validating. His words made his bones feel like jello.

Dean maneuvered Castiel’s arms out of the singlet’s straps with care. Castiel allowed Dean to do this because of the words he was saying: “You just look so good, it drives me nuts sometimes.”

Dean pulled the singlet down past Castiel’s midriff, stopped by the sweatpants at his waist… And hooked on Castiel’s bulge. Dean’s hands continued down the muscle lines on Castiel’s pelvis until he was right next to Castiel’s cock, stretching the fabric of his singlet and sweatpants.

“Dean…” Castiel didn’t know if he could withstand Dean touching him down there.

Dean’s hands fell away as he got up on his knees. Castiel awed as Dean reached over his head and tugged off his henley shirt, exposing his own tanned, youthfully muscular chest.

Dean tossed the shirt to the side. He smirked when he looked back down at Castiel, “Man, if I could take a picture of your face right now.”

Castiel shivered from embarrassment, looking to the side, searching for meaning to why he was so anxious, “We’re at the school…”

“I don’t care,” Dean said, hands returning to feel Castiel’s chest.

Castiel bit his lip, knowing it was wrong to do this here. Seeing Dean take off his shirt made it all very real to Castiel. Being wrong felt so right.

Castiel looked back to Dean as he felt two fingers hook underneath his singlet bundled at his waist. Sparks flew through the half inch of space between Dean’s lukewarm fingers and Castiel’s blood hot cock.

“Cas, can I see you?” Dean repeated.

Castiel understood now. His curiosity made him question what Dean would say and do if he saw how hard he made Castiel. 

“O-okay,” Castiel covered his eyes with his forearms.

Castiel heard Dean exhale shakily as he pulled the rest of Castiel’s singlet up and down to gather at his thick thighs. Castiel’s cock still got stuck on the fold, though, bobbing out and hitting against his pelvis heavily.

“Nn!” came out of Castiel’s mouth as the open air choked his pulsing member.

Dean’s breath hitched. Castiel slightly moved his arms to peek through and witness Dean looking down and taking in Castiel naked frontside. Castiel wriggled under the close scrutiny.

Castiel moved one arm to floor above his head so he could talk, “Dean, I’m embarrassed.”

Dean grabbed ahold of Castiel’s wrists with either hand and pinned them above Castiel’s head. His eyes snapped open and he was shocked before Dean’s bare torso was pressing against his own. Castiel couldn’t protest because Dean was kissing him again, and Castiel’s eyes melted close as his tongue started moving against Dean’s again.

The denim of Dean’s jeans was rough against his hard, naked cock. He felt Dean move his pelvis away and a hand left his wrists. Dean broke the kiss so Castiel bit and sucked at Dean’s neck like Dean had to him earlier.

Dean grunted; there was some fumbling going on between their bodies on Dean’s part. Castiel heard a zipper and felt knuckles brush the base of his cock. Castiel tried not to show how much that brief, accidental touch affected him by burying his face into the spot he’d been kissing at Dean’s shoulder.

Dean sighed and moved back over Castiel, his hand coming back to press down on Castiel’s bicep. However, now the bulge against Castiel’s exposed dick was a softer fabric that shielded Dean’s own hard member.

Castiel moaned and closed his eyes. Dean brought the other hand that had been at Castiel’s wrist to his jaw and moved Castiel’s lips back to his. Castiel kissed him back, taking the opportunity to move his hand back to Dean’s hair. 

Dean’s hair was soft. Castiel liked running his fingers through it. His hair was longer at the top, so that’s where he petted him.

Dean thrusted down and slotted against Castiel’s cock again. Castiel gasped, and arched his back as Dean pulled away. Dean growled and bit Castiel’s lip too before he tested thrusting again. Castiel moaned and licked into Dean’s mouth.

Castiel rode up into Dean’s thrusts and they soon were moaning into each other’s mouths. Castiel wondered if this was what sex was like. He recognized for a split second that he was losing his virginity, and to Dean no less.

Dean was kissing Castiel, rubbing against him, touching all over his body. Castiel felt on fire, as if all of the night had been a slow burn of his soul until he was fully engulfed in the flame of passion.

Then, suddenly, he was there at the edge of it all. His fingers tugged at a fistful of Dean’s hair, so quickly overcome by a wave of lust that he didn’t even have time to pull away and warn Dean. He wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

Castiel collapsed away from Dean’s mouth. He couldn’t see in front of him; his mind aimlessly wondered if the gym had gotten that dark again or if something had happened to him. He recalled the last few moments of Dean’s gyrating body as a blur through his orgasm.

Dean’s heavy breathing seemed muffled, like Castiel was hearing him from underwater. Dean was still on top of him, though, with his head beside Castiel’s. 

There was a stickiness between their bare chests that made Castiel blush. He hadn’t meant to orgasm so quickly. But as he laid there with Dean, Castiel realized that Dean was no longer hard either. And while it was difficult to tell where the cum began and ended, Castiel still wondered if Dean had finished as well.

He felt too embarrassed to ask, biting his lip as he turned his head so his nose hit the back of Dean’s ear. Castiel inhaled, wondering when he’d be this close to Dean again.

###### 

###### 

The hum of Cas’s heater circulates around his quiet bedroom. But the only noise that fills Cas’s ears is Dean’s huffing breaths evening out. Cas’s senses feel hyperactive in the glow of his second orgasm of the night.

He’d honestly rushed through closing, hustled home, and all but thrown himself at Dean on his couch. They had ripped into each other… Followed by a brief pause as Cas went and cleaned himself. Dean had found him in the shower to ‘help’ before they moved to Cas’s bed.

Now, Cas is soaking in the rays of having been opened and filled by Dean. Dean’s arm is around Cas’s shoulder, pulling him into his chest. Cas’s arm is over him, his nose near the back of Dean’s left ear.

“Damn,” Dean says breathlessly, his thumb coming to life to lightly stroke the piece of Cas’s shoulder he’d been resting on, “That was awesome.”

“Mm,” Cas hums into Dean’s skin and moves in a centimeter closer, “I feel like jello.”

Dean’s breath hiccups and Cas smiles. Cas is just getting used to the idea that Dean can still make him feel so drunk.

Dean’s other arm comes around to completely pull Cas in. Cas tenses instinctively for a moment, but doesn’t fight him. His lips move to the crevice of Dean’s collarbone and neck, closing his eyes.

“So… You’re not mad at me?” Dean whispers in a deep, rumbling tone.

“Why would I be mad?” Cas scratchy voice replies. He can think of a million and one reasons to be upset with Dean, but not with the valiant veteran Dean that just given him an incredible dicking.

“For showing up at the diner.”

Cas’s brow furrows, “I thought you didn’t want to talk about that.”

“I know it’s just,” Dean’s hold gets tighter, “You’re acting different tonight.”

Cas’s breath shallows. It’s true, he has been much more docile than their previous encounters. He burrows his face into Dean more, “I have a lot on my mind is all.”

“Hm, yeah?” Dean’s hands roam up and down Cas’s back, “Like what?”

Cas bites his lip. He wants to talk about his life even less than Dean wants to discuss his, but he can’t deny the way he feels about Dean has changed. It seems now that Dean can tell too.

Cas touches Dean’s jaw and moves up, bringing his nose to Dean’s, “For one, you’re a lot more admirable than I thought you’d be…”

Dean’s brow cocks, “Are you trying to say you think I’d look good in uniform?”

Cas blushes and tries not to smile, “Something like that.”

Cas’s eyes droop close and he brushes his lips against Dean’s. Dean inhales and deepens the kiss. Cas’s legs slot against Dean’s under the covers. 

Dean pushes up and moves his body over Cas’s. Cas opens his legs and wraps them around Dean’s waist, feeling the blankets slip over his thighs. Dean’s tongue licks into Cas’s mouth, his hand coming up to grip Cas’s throat above his adam’s apple.

Cas’s moans are choked and so he moans more; he sounds lewd and provokes a response from Dean. His hips thrust into Cas’s, his bare cock already hardened against Cas’s skin. Cas’s weeping dick comes back to life as well.

“Oh my god, the things you do to me,” Dean whines.

Dean’s hand moves from Cas’s neck to Dean’s mouth. He spits on his palm, pushes up on his arm next to Cas’s head on the pillow, making enough space so they can both watch as Dean’s slick hand pushes down on their twitching cocks.

Cas gasps as he thrusts his dick against Dean’s slippery hand and girthy dick. They’re both uncut, and so soft yet hard against one another.

Cas’s feet find the back of Dean’s calf and thigh as he responds to the contact, pushing down on Dean’s muscles with his toes curling.

“Ah, I love when you touch me,” Castiel gasps at his own words, not even having thought about them before they’re spilling out of his mouth.

Dean’s hand grabs on tightly to Cas’s cock and strokes the length of him. Cas’s back arches but Dean’s cock pulls away and he’s bending over his waist. Then an entirely other sensation, Dean sucking Cas’s cockhead into his mouth.

Cas feels his mouth pool with hot saliva as his eyes flutter open, “Nn, Dean!”

Cas’s hand reaches to stroke the top of Dean’s head as he pushes his mouth down further. His mouth is wet and hot around Cas’s cock, sliding up and down until it hits the back of his throat. Cas’s brain drains of blood as it all rockets south.

Dean’s hand with the spit has been stroking the lower half of Cas’s cock, drool from his mouth slipping over his fingers. Looking down at Dean like this makes Cas’s mouth feel like it’s full of peanut butter. 

Dean takes away his hand and moves the sloppy digits to Cas’s aching hole. He still feels so open and lubed with drying cum from their last go about. Dean feels it too, and is soon pushing his ring and middle finger into Cas.

Cas whimpers at the coupled stimulation, hand gripping at Dean’s hair as he covers his eyes with his other arm, “Ah!”

Dean moves his mouth off of Cas’s cock, licking it kindly, “Does it feel good?”

“Yes, you feel very good,” Cas cries, “I want more.”

Dean chuckles against Cas’s shaft, “Of course you do.”

Dean pushes his fingers in further, until he’s at his bottom knuckles. Cas’s sticky mouth moans, “Dean, you’re torturing me.”

Dean ducks down; Cas feels his lips and nose brush against his balls, licking past them to his perineum. Cas moans again and rocks his hips back and forth against Dean’s tongue.

Dean spreads his fingers that are hooked deep inside Cas, making room for Dean to push his tongue in. Cas mumbles incoherently.

“What was that?” Dean asks innocently from between Cas’s legs.

“I want you inside me,” Cas manages to say more clearly, although his voice is still ragged.

“But I am inside of you,” Dean’s voice has a smirk in it, and he massages Cas’s prostate. Cas’s foot loses its grip on Dean’s thigh and digs into the mattress as Cas grits his teeth in pleasure.

Dean’s tongue is licking his rim again, and Cas feels nasty. He bites his lip and tugs at Dean’s hair, “Nn, no I want your cock in me. Please.”

Dean slowly moves back up, licking at the base of Cas’s cock. Cas thinks he may lose his mind as Dean says against that taut, sensitive skin, “You’re pretty polite tonight.”

“Ah, fuck,” Cas couldn’t say anything to that, instead getting lost in the feeling of Dean pulling out his fingers and moving up his body to lick at his nipple. He couldn’t tell if his submissiveness was a mood that would last, or was just a symptom of having a heavy conscious.

“I like it when you’re nice,” Dean mutters against Cas’s fiery skin. 

Cas wriggles in excitement as he feels Dean’s cock get hooked down between his thigh and perineum, his cock head twitching at his rim.

Dean pulls away, sitting up on his knees with Cas’s legs spread in front of him. Cas wonders at what point he started feeling this comfortable being so exposed to Dean.

Meanwhile, Dean is looking down adoringly, mouth slightly ajar as he thumbs Cas’s loose, contracting opening. 

“Please,” Cas begs, trying to remind him of his need for Dean to be inside of him.

Dean’s arm reaches over and rifles through the mess of blankets for the forgotten lube. 

“Bleh, there’s cum all over here,” Dean chuckles.

Cas spares a smile and Dean’s grin meets his as he manages to bend down and kiss him. They lose their smiles as their tongues push into one another’s mouths. Their spit slides against one another and Cas is in a surge of ecstasy at the simple sensation of tasting Dean’s tongue.

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders, not allowing him to pull away. He feels Dean smile against his lips and Cas moves down to nibbling Dean’s jaw. Dean maneuvers the lube between them and the back of Dean’s hand strokes against his thigh. 

Cas shudders as he feels Dean press the residual lube on three of his fingers against Cas’s opening. He moans openly against Dean’s skin as he feels his fingers press in.

“Jesus,” Dean whispers like someone punched him in the gut. 

He pulls his fingers out and Cas feels a sexy messiness as Dean wipes his fingers on his rim. Dean’s fingers lead in his cock to where his fingers had been playing and Cas relaxes around his head spreading him again.

“Ah,” Cas’s fingernails dig into Dean’s nape.

Dean pulls back slightly to look into Cas’s face. Cas’s eyes are half open, looking back at Dean wrapped in his arms above, eyes blown out with lust as he slowly pushes into Cas.

Cas moves his head up to kiss Dean, but he notices Dean doesn’t close his eyes nor reciprocates fully. Cas feels his heart skip as Dean pulls back out, then back into him at the same shallow depth.

Cas tries not to let his eyes roll back at the torturing movements, especially with Dean studying him so closely. Instead, he licks his lips and grunts in want as he tries to push down further on Dean’s cock.

“Don’t,” Dean says sternly, a hand pinning down Cas’s hip as his own movements still.

Cas bites his lip and blushes. Dean’s other hand comes to tenderly stroke Cas’s cheek and bottom lip. Cas relaxes once more, and Dean continues his shallow, slow thrusts.

Dean leans down to kiss Cas, leaving Cas to the mercy of Dean.

Dean works in another inch and Cas loses control of his breathing. Dean’s hand on his cheek moves down to press on his neck and he picks up the pace slightly.

Cas feels Dean move in a bit more and Cas lifts his legs, gaining another half inch. Dean moans and Cas sighs with relief. Dean’s hand squeezes Cas’s neck, and his tongue is already out as Dean licks into his mouth.

Dean’s hand from Cas’s hip wraps around one of Cas’s thighs as he rocks in and out of him halfway. Cas’s cock has been trapped between their bodies, freely leaking pre-cum against the rubbing of Dean’s chest.

Dean’s cockhead hits the top of Cas’s prostate and his hand grips at Dean’s hair, “Oh, yes…”

Dean’s hand at Cas’s throat moves press at his collarbone and shoulder as he sits up on his knees. Cas’s hands slide from Dean’s hair to his biceps. He keeps on his back as Dean is angling is cock up again inside him, pressing constantly at Cas’s lump of nerves deep inside.

Cas watches Dean helplessly as he shakes under the immense pleasure. He feels a lewd embarrassment as Dean’s dick does this to his insides, his own heavy cock twitching in the fresh air, “Ah, Dean, that’s-”

“I know,” Dean takes his hand that was holding Cas’s thigh to press down at the base of Cas’s cock. Cas feels the pressure tighten inside and he moans as Dean’s constant rubbing at his prostate seems to get more vigorous.

“Fuck, oh!” Cas calls at the burst of pleasure.

“Yeah, I can feel me inside you,” Dean moans, his hips giving a significant .

“Dean!” is the only thing Cas can manage to moan at the moment, shivering under the sensation of Dean’s cock.

“Are you seeing anyone else?”

“Wh-what?” Cas is shocked at the question. Dean still hasn’t stopped massaging that part of Cas’s insides. Cas bites back a moan but can’t stop his body from convulsing.

“Are you sleeping with other people?” Dean asks.

Cas bites his lip. It’s a crazy question to ask at a moment like this, and Cas feels thrown off. Of course he hasn’t been with anyone else, of course he’s hung onto every interaction with Dean like it would be his last testament to romance.

But Cas’s old, mischievous behavior flares up and he wonders what Dean is like when he’s jealous.

“What if I was?” 

Dean exhales harshly like a bull being provoked with red. He pulls out to the tip and then pushes in until he’s up to the hilt. Cas loses his breath and holds on tight to Dean as he shouts out loud in the surprise stretching.

Cas feels satisfied with his work, but he isn’t given time to say anything else. Dean is slowly dragging fully in and out of him, looking so deeply into Cas’s eyes that it feels like a kiss.

Cas accepts the slow pace because he’s receiving all of Dean. His body moves with and against Dean as if they are the tides. His hands trail down from Dean’s arms to his pelvis. His chest doesn’t have that much hair, tan with rounder abdominal muscles. 

Dean moves in closer to Cas, so close that his cock is trapped by those softened ab muscles once more. Cas’s breathing becomes rough and uneven, his hands gripping onto Dean’s gyrating hips like his life depends on it.

Dean is right there in front of him, filling Cas’s vision. He can feel him moving inside of him, catching the waves of pleasure to pool in his pelvis. Dean picks up the pace.

His breath is getting as lost as Cas’s, but they get lost together, breathing each other’s air. Cas loves the sound of Dean’s breath working to pump through his lungs; loves that he does that to him.

The sound of the heater is drowned by the sound of their skin, the rhythmic creaking of the bed, their coupled ecstasy drenched moans. Cas feels like a match being struck against a matchbox over and over. The sensation of Dean pushing into him refuses to lose its sharpness.

The length of Dean’s cock keeps rubbing up into his prostate, getting harder and faster. Cas feels like drool is running out of the side of his mouth, totally in bliss, “Oh, Dean, don’t stop.”

Dean stops. 

Cas bites his lip and moans, “Ah, you fucking…”

Dean’s voice is serious: “You want it?”

Dean’s cock twitches deep inside him and Cas trembles under Dean’s body, “Nn, you know I do.”

“You also know I want to hear you say it,” Dean softly kisses Cas’s cheek.

“I want you, Dean,” Cas concedes maybe because Dean isn’t directly looking at him. He wonders to himself how deep the truth behind those words goes.

But he loses all interest in thinking about that as Dean starts back up his rhythm. Cas’s skin feels like a storm, full of hidden strikes of lightning. Dean is still kissing his jaw, seeming to not notice Cas losing all control.

Cas’s resolved disdain for Dean ebbs further with every sweet slide against his prostate. His melted brain spills through his mouth: “You’re the only one that can make me feel this way.”

Cas blushes, so embarrassed at his words. But his cock still holds some confidence as it spurts pre-cum while Dean presses harder against him. Dean captures Cas’s mouth and they moan into each other. They rock faster together, Dean barely moving out of Cas but instead just pushing and rubbing deeper inside of him with every thrust.

Cas surfs the edge of orgasm, noticing that he feels it in his chest just as much as in his pelvis.

“Ah…” Cas tries to tell Dean, but his body won’t produce any words. Instead, he wraps his legs around Dean’s waist, hooking his ankles together; his arms are the same around Dean’s shoulders.

“Cas,” Dean’s voice is gentle and sonorous, vibrating Cas’s lips as he says his name against them.

“Ah!” a moan rips out of Cas’s throat and he squeezes his eyes closed as the match catches fire.

Dean’s stutters to a stop deep inside of Cas and his breath seems to have stopped just as Cas’s has. Cas opens his eyes. Dean is looking down at him with a furrowed brow and one more wave crashes down over Cas.

Cas’s limbs are like the branches of a burnt tree; charred to a crisp, completely unmalleable yet if even a breath of wind should pass then he’d crumble to ash.

But he is trembling, completely uncontrollably. Dean holds him tighter and Cas feels loopy by just trying to stop his skin from jumping all over the place.

He hates himself for being so affected by the ecstasy, embarrassed at the words that had escaped him while in the throws of passion. He looks back at them like shards of memories after a night of drinking. He questions how much he has revealed of himself that even he didn’t know how to deal with yet.

Dean kisses him and Cas does everything not to fall apart. He doesn’t know if he can get used to treating Dean as more of a person and less as a memory.

###### 

The sun has melted any shred of winter away. Dean had left in the early morning, and Cas hadn’t asked for his key back. But most importantly, he had been there to say goodbye to Dean. He didn’t know how to feel about how good it was to make out with Dean over coffee.

Still terribly cold out, the day seems too bright for the actual season. The sky doesn’t have a cloud in it, just a matte blue against a flaring sun.

The weekend rush comes and goes, and Cas has his usual trials and tribulations with Jack and Claire under his wing. But at some point, he begins to rely on Jack a lot like he can rely on Gadreel. Jack makes Cas proud.

But Cas also knows that tomorrow will be a tough talk. Jack has somewhat rebounded from his rough week at school (as far as Cas can tell), and Cas hates to be the one to bring him back down. However, he knows that Jack deserves the truth.

Cas blinks and looks around. Jack isn’t on the floor. Cas blinks, going to the kitchen. He walks around it, as if he can't see with his eyes that Jack isn’t there either.

“Everything alright, boss?” Claire asks Cas through the window.

“Have you seen Jack?” Cas tries not to sound frantic.

Claire looks to Hannah who is standing next to Cas.

Claire shrugs, “Not really.”

“Maybe he’s on a break?” Hannah suggests.

Cas shakes his head, “I sent him up to the loft to get another case of napkins over fifteen minutes ago. Did he drop them off?”

Hannah shakes her head.

Cas bites his lip, “He should be back by now.”

“Well, chill out, would you?” Claire kindly suggests.

Hannah puts her hand on Cas’s shoulder, “Why don’t you just go and look for him? He’s probably just scrolling on his phone upstairs.”

“Pff, Jack? Yeah, right,” Claire chuckles. 

Cas furrows his brow and nods to Hannah, “I’ll be right back.”

Cas qualms his anxious heart by moving quickly and efficiently. He takes methodical breaths, because that’s what he was used to doing whenever Jack gave him a fright like this. And he’s always alright. 

Cas gets lost in a memory of him getting very scared of losing Jack when he was very little. Jack had straight walked out of the home and down the street. Jack hadn’t realized what he’d done, only that he was pretending to be a wizard and he needed ingredients for potions.

Cas is already opening the door, trying to clear the smile away remembering now to announce himself, “Hey, Jack, wh-”

Cas stops in his tracks, hand still on the doorknob.

His eyes trail from the flipped coffee table to the shattered television. The kitchen is a mess. The scene tracks to a quivering Jack in the corner near the closet pantry. Jack’s eyes scoot past a figure to Cas in pleading.

The figure in front of Jack is looming over him, wearing a dark beige jumpsuit with black printed lettering. The figure has short, dirty blonde hair, and a scar that reaches from his neck to his cheek.

Lucifer turns to Cas and smiles, “Long time no see, little bro.”


End file.
